Crazy trip
by LoSa
Summary: Nick's father decided to go on a road trip around the country and offered the rest of the gang to join. Elmo's narration.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1. A dream come true**

We sat in the Black Cat café about a week before our last summer holidays started, talking and waiting for Nick, who had asked us to come. He was late, so we started talking about the work for the holidays.

Liz said that she had had a few phone calls about work, and was asking our opinion about it, when Nick came in, looking around. Liz waved frantically to him. Nick lifted one eyebrow and came up to us, looking as cool as usual.

'I've got good news for some of you,' he said, sitting down on a chair next to Richelle. 'What do you think about a travel around the country?'

The rest of us stared at him.

'What?' Liz gasped.

'What you've heard,' Nick said gloomily. 'My father says that he's sick of luxury five star hotels and beaches with white sand. He wants nature, plain food, nights in tents and this sort of things. Besides he wants to look for new ideas for his business in the countryside. As he put it, there are a lot of whizzes in the countryside. And all of them need someone, who would give them a chance.'

'So?' Tom looked at him.

'So my father rented a microbus and decided that we'd go on a trip around the country,' Nick sighed. 'But my mum refused to go. She said that she needed a break from washing, cooking and other things. So they decided that mum would go to a spa resort with a friend of her and dad together with his workmate would go on a road trip around the country. He wants me to go with them. Um… actually he insists that I go. And he asks if you want to join us. Do you agree?' Nick looked around at us almost pleadingly.

'Do I agree? Of course I do!' Sunny exclaimed. Active rest was the best rest for Sunny.

'I'd like to go, too,' Liz nodded. 'I'd love a few days out of the city.'

'I'm in too,' Tom put in cheerfully. 'It will be interesting, I suppose.'

I didn't mind either. It sounded nice. Really. To travel around the country, sleep in tents, sit around a fire, telling funny stories. What could be better? Besides I was sure that it would be very interesting, at least for me. Dad always was too busy to travel and almost all my life I spent in Raven Hill, helping in the Pen. Not that I didn't like it, I love the Pen and Raven Hill, but the idea of a road trip was really tempting.

On seeing that we all agreed and even that we were glad to go, Nick sighed with relief. He didn't seem very happy to spend part of the holidays in the country with his father and his workmate.

To tell the truth I'd rather go with someone else, but Mr Kontellis. I always was a little bit afraid of him. I don't say that he's bad. No, he's a good man and a good, successful businessman. But for me he's too authoritarian, calm, strong person, the total opposite to my father, a chunky, messy, shy man. Though maybe on this trip I will know Mr Kontellis better and will change my opinion.

Anyway. All of us, except Nick and Richelle, were keen on the idea of this trip. But Nick didn't have a choice. As for Richelle, she seemed to think.

'Sleeping in tents? Cooking food on a fire?' she drawled disappointedly. 'But I was looking forward to the holydays to earn some money, to swim, just to have a good time.'

'We'll have a good time!' Liz interrupted. 'Just imagine! To get away from the city, see new places. To breathe some fresh air.'

'Liz, you know I hate to carry heavy backpacks and eat food, cooked on a fire!'

'You won't have to carry heavy backpacks,' Nick coaxed her. 'It will be a road trip with lots of stops. And we're going to eat in roadside cafes. Besides I'll ask dad to include coastal places into our route. So you will be able to swim and lie on a beach.'

'Oh, okay,' finally Richelle agreed.

'Okay,' Nick nodded. 'I'll tell dad that you all agreed.'

###

That night Mr Kontellis called our parents in turn and asked if we could go. Tom's parents, Sunny's mother and my dad didn't take too much of a problem. Mrs Chan and my father had left us to organize our own lives long ago, and Tom's mother was too busy with his younger brothers. She considered that Tom was grown up enough to make his own decisions. Richelle's parents didn't mind this trip either. Her mum knew that Mr Kontellis was responsible and serious person and that she could easily trust him with her daughter.

As for Mr Brinkley, when he heard about the travel, he just went into raptures about it. So when Mr Kontellis asked if he would like to join us, Mr Brinkley agreed instantly.

Liz's parents at first didn't want to let their daughter go, but after the conversation with Mr Kontellis, who had convinced them that their daughter would be returned home safe and sound, they gave in. Mr Free decided that there were at least two good reasons why this trip would be useful for Liz. Firstly, Liz would learn how to live in unusual conditions and see new places. And secondly, she would avoid another criminal affair, which always had been driving him mad. But he insisted that their dog, Christo, should go with us. Mr Kontellis easily agreed and even said that the dog would be useful in the road trip.

As for us, we decided that parents wouldn't bother us. We were all getting more and more excited, counting down the days. Even Nick and Richelle cheered up. We all started to pack our things, anticipating a funny and interesting journey.

Tom and I didn't lose sleep over packing. To our opinion some necessary clothes and other obvious things would be enough.

Sunny, except clothes, put into her bag two track suits – light and warm ones, climbing and diving equipment, a football ball and badminton rackets.

Liz complained that her mum crammed a lot of warm clothes into her bag.

'Mum! It's so hot!' Liz sighed. 'I don't need so many warm things! They'll just be useless.'

'The weather can change,' her mother objected, cramming two warm sweaters into Liz's bag. 'Besides you're going to sleep in tents. The ground may be cold at night.'

In the end Liz stopped arguing and started to put the warm clothes from the bag back into the wardrobe. Her mother was amazed that such a quite small bag could hold so many things.

'I told you that this bag was really good,' she kept saying to Liz's father. 'It looks so small, but it can hold so many things!'

Saying this, she put a few warm tights into the marvelous bag. That evening Liz replaced these tights with a couple of swimsuits.

In Kontellis's house you could watch another picture. Nick filled his bag with jeans and sweatshirts. He didn't forget even a wool blanket.

'Are you going to travel around Antarctic?' Tom teased him.

Nick just shrugged in reply. 'The weather is unpredictable,' he used to say. 'You never know what can happen.'

As for Richelle, she filled her bag with swimsuits, curling iron, a full set of cosmetics, a manicure set and a lot of clothes of all kinds and colours, from jeans to little dresses.

###

The day before the trip, all participants were to meet in Kontellis's house to discuss details. I met Tom, Liz and Sunny near the Pen and we headed for Nick's place. Richelle was to go there with her father. We decided to walk through the park and the Glen to save time. Everyone was happy and excited and chattered endlessly about the up-coming trip.

'I heard Mr Kontellis had included a town where a lot of artists live into our route,' Tom said as we walked through the Glen towards the park.

'Really?' Liz seemed interested.

'Yeah,' Tom nodded. 'I heard there are several art museums in that town, and most of the houses are painted like…'

We didn't hear what he wanted to say, because all of a sudden Tom disappeared.

'Good heavens! There's a gully here!' Sunny exclaimed in alarm. 'Tom! Are you all right?'

We parted aside the branches of thick bushes, which had devoured Tom so suddenly. The gully wasn't very deep, but the slope here was quite steep. Actually it was easy to break an arm or a leg if you stumbled down there.

'Hurry up,' Sunny was already carefully sliding down the slope into the gully.

Liz and I followed her. When we finally reached the bottom, we saw Tom. He was standing near a luxury car.

'Can you move faster?' Tom exclaimed impatiently when we joined him. 'Look at this.' He stretched out his hand towards the car, looking smug and pleased, as though it was his own purchase.

We all stared at the car. It was a brand new black BMW, shiny and sleek. But how did it get in this gully? It was the last place where I expected to see any car, let alone such a luxury car.

'A cool car,' I mumbled admiringly, trying to see something through the darkened windows. It was useless, though. I could see only my own reflection. 'But why could someone leave it here?'

'This is it,' Tom said, nodding meaningfully. 'It's dangerous to drive down here even on a motorbike, let alone a car. I guess the owner of this car is mad. Or he or she was completely drunk.'

I walked around the car and noticed the tire tracks in the grass. Following them, I came up to the other side of the gully, which was almost flat. I called out the others and pointed at the gentle slope.

'It's easy to drive down this slope,' I said. 'But I still don't understand why someone could park such an expensive car here.'

'Whoever did that, they must have had reasons. Let's go,' Sunny glanced at her watch. 'We're supposed to be in Nick's place by now.'

We climbed out of the gully and started for Kontellis's house, discussing this strange incident on the way.

'I reckon the car is stolen,' I said. 'Why else would anyone leave his or her car in such a place?'

'Do you think someone stole the car and hid it in a gully?' Tom asked.

'Why not?' I shrugged. 'Who would think to look for the stolen car in the gully? No one. It can stay there for a while and then the robbers easily will sell it.'

'We should report to the police,' Liz stopped dead.

'Hey, cool it, Liz,' Sunny objected. 'It's just a theory. We don't know anything for sure. What if everything's all right and it's just teenagers, who wanted to be alone. We'll look really stupid, don't you think?'

'But let's at least write down the car number,' Liz insisted. 'Then we'll be able to call Greta Vortek and ask her to check if someone reported the car with this number stolen.'

We looked at each other. Liz had a point. We all could see that. We turned round and ran back to the Glen. But when we climbed down into the gully, there wasn't any car. Neither the black BMW, nor any other car.

We stared at each other, bewildered.

'I told you,' Sunny snorted. 'It was just teenagers or something.'

'All the same, we should have noticed the number plate,' Liz exclaimed. 'Why didn't we think of that!'

'Did the car _have_ the number plate?' Tom's forehead wrinkled in a frown. 'I don't remember.'

Neither did I. I was so astonished to see such a luxury car in such an unusual place that didn't even think about the number plate.

So we had nothing to do but to go to Nick's place.

###

When we came up to Nick's house, we saw that all participants of the trip had already gathered. Mr Brinkley's car was parked in front of Kontellis's house. A new microbus Hyundai IMAX stood on the driveway near the garage. As I knew, Mr Kontellis had been driving on this car for a few days in order to adapt himself to the unusual dimensions. Next to the microbus, contrasting with its elegance, an old, yellow Mercedes stood. I couldn't help gazing at it. I've never seen a car in such a state before. There were dents and scratches all over the car. Even the roof didn't avoid this fate. The car looked as if its owner preferred to roll down hills like a ball.

Liz pressed the doorbell. Nick opened the door and led us into the spacious lounge room. Except Mr and Mrs Kontellis and the Brinkley family, there was a tall, thin guy of about twenty five, sitting in an armchair.

'This is Liz Free, Tom Moysten, Sunny Chan and Elmo Zimmer,' Mr Kontellis introduced us to the thin guy. Then he turned to us, 'this is Arnold Power, my workmate,' he said.

'Call me just Arnold,' the guy smiled friendly at us.

I heard Sunny and Tom giggling. And I could understand that. The last thing you could see in this bony guy was power. Arnold Power turned out to be a young, promising inventor.

I noticed that Richelle was looking at Arnold disdainfully. Arnold belonged to that type of people who didn't care how they look. The wide trousers were a little bit short for him, the wrinkled shirt hung on him like a sack, the shirt collar was twisted awry. His hair was tangled and unkempt.

'I heard you're going to take a dog along with you,' Arnold said. 'I want to warn you that I won't be able to ride in one car with the dog. I'm allergic to dogs.'

'Maybe you won't go then?' Richelle said with a hope in her voice.

'No, I'll go,' Arnold objected firmly. 'I want to help Mr Kontellis to find young talented inventors. Besides, my brains need rest and refection. I'm completely exhausted. I don't even have inspiration for new inventions. I'll just go on my own car.'

'Okay,' Mr Kontellis nodded.

'Here's our route,' the guy went on. 'The first place we'll visit is Ashfield. Firstly, there is an old monastery in this town. You must see it. It's really grand and interesting. And secondly, I've got a holiday house there, where we can spend the night. Also we can buy some food there. There's no need to buy a lot of perishable goods here in Raven Hill.'

'Okay,' Mr Brinkley said importantly.' Let's check what we have.'

'I bought three big tents,' Mr Kontellis began to enumerate, 'a camp stove, torches, two large bottles of water, canned food…'

###

The rest of that day and the whole next day we spent packing the last things into our bags and calling each other, asking and telling new details. Our parents did the same. Tom's mum, for example, knowing how much her son likes to eat, brought a huge box full of canned food.

Liz's mum kept calling Mrs Kontellis or Mrs Brinkley or Mrs Chan, asking their advices, until Mr Kontellis assured her that "the kids will be returned home safe and sound".


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. The first day of the trip**

Finally this day had come. We gathered in Kontellis's house, loaded our bags into the microbus and set off. Mr Kontellis and Mr Brinkley sat on the front seats, planning to take turns in driving the microbus.

Tom, Nick, Liz, Sunny, Richelle and I sat in the back. The microbus was quite big and comfortable. Richelle occupied the most convenient seat near the window. She opened the window and enjoyed a gentle, warm wind, blowing into her face. Nick sat beside her.

I sat next to Tom and felt excellently. The others also looked pleased and happy. Even Nick. Even Richelle.

Arnold followed us in his old, yellow Mercedes. There were a lot of cars on the streets at that time of day. From time to time we had to stop in traffic jams.

But traffic wasn't the main problem. The main problem was Arnold. He wasn't the best driver. On the way from Nick's house to the highway we lost him twice. As it turned out Arnold didn't live in Raven Hill, he was from another suburb, so that he didn't know how to reach the highway. That was why we had to turn back and look for him. At the first time we found him on the road side. His car got a flat tyre. So we had to stop and help him. Finally the tyre was fixed, and we were on our way again. But soon Arnold's yellow Mercedes disappeared out of sight again.

As it turned out, he slightly shoved into another car and when we found him, he was arguing hotly with the owner of that car, waving his hands and proving something.

So when we finally reached the highway and left the town, Mr Kontellis sighed with relief and pushed down the accelerator. The microbus speeded up, humming along the smooth road.

'Hey, kids, check where our Arnold is, please,' Mr Kontellis commanded to us. 'Maybe he needs our help again. Maybe the engine dropped out of his car or something else.'

We looked out the back window. Arnold's yellow Mercedes was right behind us. I was about to lean back in my seat, when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another car.

'Look over there,' I whispered to the others and pointed. There was a brand new black BMW, going not far from Arnold's car.

'Can you recognize it?' I asked. Tom, Liz and Sunny nodded.

###

'Are you sure it's the same car?' Nick looked at us doubtfully. 'It can be just another black BMW.'

'I'm not sure,' I replied, 'but it looks exactly like that car in the gully.'

'It doesn't retard and doesn't overtake us,' Liz said. 'That's strange.'

She was right. The black BMW kept a distance, but followed Mr Kontellis's Hyundai.

'I wish I could see the driver,' I pressed my nose against the window. But it was impossible to see the driver's face at this distance. BMW changed the lane, but didn't speed up. Soon it returned into the left lane again and was going right behind Arnold's car now.

'It's weird,' I said thoughtfully.

'I don't think so,' Sunny objected. 'Honestly Elmo, you don't think that it's only one black BMW in the whole country, do you? It's just another car. Nothing more.'

'Maybe you're right,' I agreed. 'But I don't understand why the driver of such a cool, powerful car is going behind a microbus. He can easily overtake us. There're not many cars on the road.'

At that moment Arnold noticed us staring out the back window and probably decided that we were looking at him. He started waving his hands at us and accidently switched on the right turn signal. A driver of the car in the right lane obviously decided that Arnold was about to change lanes, and braked abruptly, nearly getting rear ended by another car. Then he opened the window and began roaring at the "young inventor".

'What's going on there?' Mr Brinkley turned to us.

'Arnold got into a little mess,' I replied.

'Ooh, that Arnold again,' Mr Kontellis jammed on the breaks.

It was a big mistake. Arnold, who was still trying to apologize to the furious driver from the right lane, didn't expect this sudden stop of the microbus. With his eyes practically bulging out of his head, he managed to twist the wheel to the left and pulled over to the side of the road. There were two cars standing on the road side. A few people stood near the cars, discussing something. They scattered in all directions and it was just a miracle that the yellow Mercedes flew past them, not running anyone down.

'What is he doing? Who gave the driver license to this idiot?' for some reason the people started roaring at Mr Kontellis and Mr Brinkley as soon as they pulled up on the roadside and clambered out of the microbus.

'We're so sorry,' they had to apologize.

As for Arnold, he stood, leaning against his car, shocked. 'I nearly killed people,' he repeated under his breath.

We also climbed out of the microbus to breathe some fresh air and stretch our legs. This unexpected stop at least gave Richelle a chance to walk around and breathe some air to get her stomach back in order.

'Did anyone notice where the BMW had gone?' I looked at the others.

'What could we notice in this mess,' Nick muttered.

'Maybe you, Nickers, watched how Arnold was trying to run these people down,' Tom said smugly, 'but I looked at the road.'

'And?' we all turned to him.

'I don't know where the BMW has turned, but I can say for sure that it didn't overtake us,' Tom replied. 'If this car had started to overtake us, I would have noticed it.'

'But it hadn't,' I pronounced quietly. I thought for a while, then walked around the microbus and came up to the edge of the road. There was a sign showing the turn-off to "Cool Creeks" about a hundred meters away.

'Look at this,' I said to the others, who had come up to me, and pointed at the sign. 'The BMW must have turned there.'

'"Cool creeks?"' Nick grinned. 'It sounds like it's the best place for this cool car.'

'I told you, it was just another black BMW,' Sunny put in.

'Yeah,' Tom drawled gloomily. 'Maybe you're right. What a pity… I thought it was the same car…'

'Yeah, what a pity,' Nick drawled. 'We did hope that criminals were following us on a stolen car. But it turned out just another car and nothing more.'

But it crossed my mind that Nick also was disappointed.

'By the way, I guess this BMW didn't overtake us because the driver was afraid to overshoot the turn,' Liz sighed. 'That was why he rode so slowly behind us in the left lane.'

We returned to the microbus. Arnold was still apologizing to the people.

'Why don't you get into your car, Arnold,' Mr Kontellis said to him. 'Let's go.'

'I nearly killed people,' Arnold mumbled. 'Can't you understand that?'

'But you didn't, so calm down and get into your car,' Mr Kontellis repeated coldly. The he turned to us. 'Hop in,' he said, jerking his head at the open door of the microbus.

We let ourselves in. Christo was already there, sniffing the bags with food and hinting that he didn't mind eating something.

'No,' Liz said firmly. 'We'll arrive in Ashfield soon and have lunch there.'

Christo sighed sadly and lay down on the floor. Tom made exactly the same sound and pulled out a chocolate bar from his pocket. Christo glanced at him with jealousy.

The microbus tore along the highway. Arnold rode right behind us. The microbus came over the brow of a hill and we saw a blue strip of the ocean in the distance.

'How beautiful,' Liz murmured, beholding the landscape.

'Arnold told me that Ashfield is a very beautiful town,' Mr Kontellis said, turning to us. Now he sat in the front passenger seat. Mr Brinkley was driving. 'The air is very clean and fresh. By the way, we are almost there.'

Arnold's yellow Mercedes was going in front of us now, showing the way. We past sign showing the turn-off to Ashfield and swung off the highway. Soon we entered Ashfield. It was a little, beautiful town with small houses and the old huge monastery in the centre. The main street was clogged with tourists. We cruised through the clean streets and stopped in front of the small, but neat house on the outskirts of town.

'Welcome to my jungle!' Arnold jumped out of his car, happily smiling.

It was an appropriate word for his garden. The garden was so overgrown that it was difficult to see the house, hidden behind the thick bushes and knee-deep grass. The only clear place was the path, leading towards the front door and the square of cobblestone ground, where the owner parked his car.

'You might have mowed the grass,' Mr Kontellis muttered as he climbed out of the microbus and almost drowned in the exuberant vegetation.

'Come in,' Arnold had already unlocked the door. 'I'm starving. I suggest that we start cooking dinner right now.'

Hearing the word "dinner" Tom flew into the house. So did Christo. Nick, Liz, Sunny, Richelle and I took our bags and also came into the house. It was unexpectedly clean and neat inside. There were two rooms, a kitchen, a veranda and a bathroom in the house.

'So,' Arnold put on an important look. 'Usually I don't live here. This is my holiday house. So I haven't been here for ages. In you come and make yourselves at home. I will check what I have here.'

We brought all necessary things from the microbus and stacked them in the living room. Arnold came out of the bathroom, looking confused.

'There's… um… a little unpleasant thing,' he babbled. 'The toilet here needs some repair. Its pipe is leaking. Um… actually this pipe has been leaking for about a year.'

'You should have warned us,' Mr Kontellis muttered.

'I've forgotten about it,' Arnold smiled. 'Honestly. But never mind,' he exclaimed cheerfully looking around at us, 'there's an outside loo in the garden. You may use it.'

I saw Richelle shudder. She gave him an irritated glance and whispered something in Nick's ear.

'He's a nice guy, this Arnold,' Tom whispered in my ear. 'I wonder what else he's forgotten to say to us.'

I nodded, grinning.

'Okay, it's not the worst trouble. We'll get over it,' Mr Brinkley said, trying to sound cheerful. 'Let's make something to eat.'

Nick, Tom and I brought the food stuff from the microbus. Mr Kontellis and Mr Brinkley started to cook dinner. The girls set the table.

'Mr Power! You're here at last,' a middle aged woman appeared in the doorway.

'As you see,' the guy didn't seem happy to see her.

'I've been waiting for you for two days,' the woman said. 'Yesterday I saw someone walking through your garden. I thought it was you, but it was two strangers.'

'Strangers?' Arnold scowled.

'Yeah,' the woman nodded. 'As soon as they noticed me, they ran away, so I can't describe them. But I know exactly that I've never met them before. But that's not the point,' she said severely. 'I've come here because of the pipe. You must paint it, remember?'

'Mrs Bennet!' Arnold wailed. 'I've just arrived! Can I at least have dinner for a start?'

'The pipe is getting rustier and rustier,' the woman pressed her lips together in an aggrieved sort of way.

'Okay,' Arnold babbled, 'I'll paint it as soon as I finish dinner. I promise.'

'Don't forget,' Mrs Bennet gave him a severe look and stalked off.

'I'm sick of this damned pipe!' Arnold kicked the leg of the table angrily.

'What pipe?' Richelle's father looked at him anxiously.

'The water pipe in the garden,' Arnold explained gloomily. 'This damned pipe is situated very close to her garden and she's afraid that this pipe is too rusty and unreliable and can leak any moment. But I don't want to speak about it. I'm too hungry for that.'

###

Finally dinner was ready. Mr Brinkley and Mr Kontellis didn't turn out the best cooks. The macaroni were oversalted, meat was overdone. Nevertheless Mr Brinkley wasn't upset.

'See?' he exclaimed happily. 'We've managed to make meal without women!'

The rest of us didn't share his enthusiasm. Having picked at the uneatable food on our plates, we all pushed the plates away. Even Tom wasn't able to eat this uneatable meal. Richelle didn't even try. As for Arnold, he started whingeing that he had a sore liver and a gastric ulcer and such food was prohibited for him. To which Mr Kontellis irritably replied that people with such diseases should go to a health resort, but not on the road trip. After this dinner he wasn't in a good mood either.

'Never mind,' Arnold sighed, swallowing a handful of pills of all shapes and colours. 'I hope I'll survive.'

At that moment Mr Brinkley remembered that he had bought a few melons and watermelons in Raven Hill. 'How could I forget about them!' he ran at full speed to the car.

We all attacked the dessert. Melons and watermelons were splendid. Even Arnold said that now he felt vigorous and healthy.

When we finished the dessert, Liz and Sunny started to wash dishes. I dried and stacked the stuff away. Nick and Richelle went out for a walk. Tom decided to visit Arnold's outside convenience. Three men settled down into the armchairs and switched on the TV-set, planning to spend a calm evening.

But a few moments later the harmony was broken by a deafening crash, coming from the garden.

'What's that?' three men immediately jumped to their feet.

'The pipe! Pipe! Hoodlums!' a female voice shrilled somewhere in the garden.

'It's Mrs Bennet,' Arnold's face paled. He rushed to the door and was about to run out into the garden, but his trousers caught on a hook, hanging on the door.

'Hold on! Just one sec!' he mumbled, trying to pull his trousers off the hook.

'Help! Anyone! My flowers are dying!' Mrs Bennet kept shrilling outside. We heard Nick and Richelle saying something to her.

'Arnold! Can you move quicker?' Mr Kontellis roared at the young inventor.

Arnold glanced at his boss in dismay and rushed forward, leaving a piece of his trousers on the hook. The men, Liz, Sunny and I ran out into the garden. The scene that we saw, stupefied by its scope. Tom was standing in front of the outside toilet. That is he was standing on the place where the toilet had been before. Nick and Richelle stood a little bit further with their jaws dropped. The outside loo was lying on the ground. The unfortunate pipe was crushed under it. A jet of water gushed from the broken pipe straight into Mrs Bennet's garden, washing away her flowers and other plants.

'Why have you done that?' Arnold glared at Tom.

'It's not my blame,' Tom babbled. 'I didn't do anything.'

'He didn't,' unexpectedly Nick defended Tom. 'We were here and saw everything. Tom went out of the loo and quietly closed the door. And suddenly this thing crashed to the ground right onto the pipe.'

'As a matter of fact mum told me that this toilet was unreliable,' Arnold mumbled. 'But I thought she was exaggerating.'

'You've done it on purpose!' the woman cried. 'You've broken my hedge! You're washing my flowers away!'

'Your flowers and hedge are the last things I need,' Arnold objected. 'My problem is much worse! If you haven't noticed, I'm left without the loo now.'

'Oh, what's a pity!' Mrs Bennet laughed hysterically. 'Switch off the water! Quickly!'

'Arnold, where's the pipe valves?' Mr Kontellis turned to the guy.

'I don't know,' he mumbled. 'I've never needed them.'

'Okay, we'll try to find the pipe valve,' Mr Kontellis said to the furious woman. 'We'll switch off the water soon. Don't worry!'

He grabbed Arnold's collar shirt and dragged him to where the pipe led.

'Hang on! I'm coming with you!' Mr Brinkley adroitly jumped over the prostrate toilet and caught up with them. He seemed to be ready to go anywhere just to be as far as possible from Mrs Bennet's hysterical yells.

We wanted to wait for them in the house, but the woman didn't let us go.

'You all stay here,' she ordered severely. 'I want you to watch how my beautiful flowers are dying because of you!'

'Sadist,' Tom mumbled. 'There are so many mosquitos here. They'll eat us up before the adults come back.'

'You should have thought about it earlier,' Nick snapped.

'My beautiful flowers!' Mrs Bennet squealed again. 'See? The water is already flowing all over my garden! All my flowers are dying!'

'I'm so sorry,' Liz tried to reassure her.

'Don't pretend that you're sorry!' the woman became even angrier. Liz edged away, frightened. 'I know you're not! You did it on purpose!' the woman went on roaring. 'I told that this pipe should have been painted.'

'I don't think it would save the loo from Moysten,' Nick muttered.

We all giggled.

'Oh! Do you think it's funny?' the woman squealed.

'I don't even know which valve should be shut first. The valve on the pipe or on her mouth,' Sunny said in a low voice, looking sideways at the furious woman.

'My poor flowers! Bastards!' she was yelling.

'You need a complex approach to this problem,' Nick pointed out gravely. 'To close the pipe valve and then to give a sum of money to her. Then she'll shut up.'

At that moment the flow of water slowed down and soon stopped. Three men came up to us. Christo was following them with an important look.

'We've found the valve and closed it,' Mr Kontellis said tiredly.

'Okay,' Mrs Bennet nodded. 'Now. Tomorrow you, Mr Power, will repair the pipe. And then you'll paint it. Is it clear?'

'Tomorrow will be tomorrow,' Arnold snapped. 'But now I beg you, Mrs Bennet, leave us alone!'

He turned round and wandered towards the house. The rest of us trailed after him. The house didn't seem so nice now. It was incredibly hot inside even with all the windows open. And of course Arnold hadn't even a fan, let alone an air-conditioner.

'Great,' Mr Binkley sighed. 'The loo is broken. It's impossible to be inside here in this heat. And we can't go outside because this awful woman will start raving about her flowers again,' he shook his head. 'I suggest that we set off as early as possible tomorrow morning. Say, at six o'clock. Otherwise this woman won't let us go.'

'Yeah,' Mr Kontellis and Arnold agreed.

We didn't mind either. No one wanted to stay another day in Arnold's house.

'Now. We'll pack all our things and bags into the microbus,' Mr Brinkley started to put his things into his suitcase. 'Then we'll try to sleep in this hell. At five o'clock we'll all get up, have a quick shower, then quick breakfast, and at six o'clock we'll go off. We should leave this place before that hysterical woman wakes up.'

'That's right,' Arnold nodded. 'On our way we'll see the monastery. Then we'll head south.'

They corrected the route. Then Mr Kontellis and Arnold turned round their cars so that to go off early in the morning without attracting attention. And finally under the cover of darkness Tom and I crept towards Mrs Bennet's house and planted an envelope with money into the crack under the front door. The three men decided that they put enough money into the envelope to repair and paint the pipe.

Then we went to sleep. Mr Kontellis and Arnold climbed into narrow beds. Mr Brinkley sprawled on the divan. The six of us crawled into our sleeping bags. But no one slept well that night. The night was very warm and it was unbearably hot in the house. And at the same time we couldn't open the windows because of mosquitos. There were clouds of hungry mosquitos, flying outside. For some reason none of us thought of repellents when we had been packing up our things. Now we all regretted about it. Closed windows didn't help, though. Mosquitos obviously had their own ways of getting into the house, because in spite of all closed windows, they soon started flying and buzzing near our ears. In the dead of night Tom lost his temper. He jumped out of his sleeping bag and started to belabour them, driving everyone else mad.

So when we finally climbed into the microbus and left the welcoming house, I felt incredible relief.

'Never mind,' Mr Kontellis said, looking at our grim, sleepy faces. 'We'll sleep well tonight in tents.'

Richelle grumbled something doubtfully, examining her fingernails.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3. Second day of the trip**

Soon we stopped near the old monastery, we'd passed by the day before. It really was an old and grand building. Tall walls made of stone, narrow windows, two bell towers.

'Do monks live here now?' Liz asked.

'Not monks – nuns live here,' Arnold corrected her. 'This is the female monastery. This monastery was built about a hundred years ago,' he went on in the tone of a guide. 'Look at these walls. They are made of stone and the special type of clay, which used by the locals since ancient times and…'

Richelle yawned. Arnold straightaway stopped raving on and looked at her under his eyebrows.

'Please go on, Arnold,' Liz put in quickly. 'It's very interesting.'

Arnold started speaking again. We all slowly walked along the wall of the monastery towards the gates, admiring the beauty and grandeur of this building. That is only the adults, Liz and Tom were admiring.

Nick and Richelle never thought much of architecture and art. They both considered this excursion as a waste of time. They walked slowly, hand-in-hand, chatting in low voices. Sunny was too active to go so slowly, gazing at the old building. As for me, I unbearably wanted to sleep. Trying hard to keep my eyes open, I slowly wandered behind them.

Suddenly Sunny slowed down and touched my hand.

'Look over there,' she said. I reluctantly turned to where she was pointing and the sleepiness disappeared at once. A new black BMW was parked on the parking area behind the gates of the monastery.

###

'So? What do you think?' Liz demanded.

'There's no one near the car,' Nick said, looking around. 'Let's come closer.'

'No. There's no point in coming to the car together,' Sunny objected. 'You stay here. Let me know if you'll notice something suspicious.'

She looked around and casually went towards the black car. We watched how she came up to it, lingered for a moment near the driver's door and then returned to us.

'It's the same car,' she said calmly.

'The same car or looks like the same car,' I decided to clarify.

'It's exactly the same car that was in the gully in Raven Hill,' Sunny said.

'What's going on?' Richelle opened wide her big blue eyes.

'This car follows us from Raven Hill, that's what's going on,' Nick replied thoughtfully.

'What do we do?' Liz asked.

Tom opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment two fathers together with inseparable Arnold came up to us.

'There you are,' Mr Kontellis said. 'We decided to stop at the nearest roadside café and to eat normal human food. I'm terribly hungry. So board the microbus!'

Suddenly I realized that none of us had looked at the number plate of the BMW again.

'I'll be back in a minute,' I rushed back towards the corner of the monastery.

'Where are you going?' Mr Kontellis called after me.

I pretended that I didn't hear him. I rounded the corner of the monastery and stopped dead. The black BMW had already gone away.

'Are they teasing us on purpose?' I mumbled, wandering back to the others. When I came up to the microbus the others were all on board. Mr Kontellis sat behind the wheel and Mr Brinkley sat in the passenger seat next to him. Arnold waved at me from his Mercedes.

'Hurry up,' Mr Brinkley shouted to me. 'We're hungry!'

I climbed into the microbus and sat down next to Tom.

'So?' they all stared at me expectantly.

'The same result,' I replied. 'When I came there, BMW had already disappeared. Ooh,' I banged my fist on my knee, 'we haven't noticed the number plate again.'

'I don't think it's a coincidence,' Tom pointed out. 'This black BMW appears in the same places where we are not for nothing.'

'Do you think they watch us?' Richelle opened her big blue eyes wide.

'Or they just travel around the country on a car, like we do,' practical Sunny objected. 'You see criminals in everyone.'

'Sunny's right,' Liz sighed. 'We're not only people who travel around the country on cars. A lot of people do that.'

'But they all have different routes,' Tom shook his head doubtfully. He turned around. 'Look over there,' he said, pointing at the baggage area.

'And what's there?' Nick drawled, looking down his nose at him.

'Bags and packs,' Tom replied quickly. 'We have a lot of things. But I remember exactly that that BMW in the gully was empty.'

'How did you know?' I turned to him. 'The windows were darkened.'

'I looked through the windshield,' Tom grinned. 'It was tinted a little lighter than other windows. So I could see that there weren't any bags or packs in the car.'

'But it doesn't mean that the owners of this car are criminals,' Sunny put in. 'They could keep their things in the trunk after all.'

'Yeah,' Nick agreed with her. 'Besides we are going to sleep in tents; that's why we have so many things. If they eat in cafes and sleep in motels, they don't need to take a lot of things along with them. Though, I don't think that they're just traveling around,' unexpectedly he agreed with Tom.

'You have a rigorous logic,' Tom murmured.

'No, I just really think they follow us,' Nick smiled. 'Look. They were not far from my house in Raven Hill. Then they rode behind us on the highway. And when dad stopped abruptly, they could think that we spotted them and quickly swung into the nearest turn.'

'You think too much of yourself, Nick,' Sunny said calmly. 'Why would anyone want to follow us?'

'What were they doing near the monastery then?' Nick looked down his nose at her.

'The same what we did,' Sunny replied. 'Saw it.'

'At seven in the morning?' Nick raised one eyebrow at her. 'We wouldn't go so early if it hadn't been for that crazy neighbor and her pipe. Too many coincidences, don't you think?'

Sunny didn't answer. It was obvious that the strange BMW appeared on our way not for nothing.

'Maybe we should tell our parents about it?' Richelle looked at us, frightened.

'No,' Nick objected. 'They'll just change the route. But I want to know what these people want from us.'

'You'll know it when one of us disappears together with this car,' Richelle grumbled, turning to the window. It crossed my mind that she was sure that people on the black BMW were going to kidnap her, Richelle, and demand a ransom.

'Don't be afraid, no one will disappear,' Nick grinned, taking her hand.

'But she's right,' Liz also looked worried. 'Besides, the car is very expensive and the criminals must be cool and ruthless. Poor criminals wouldn't buy such a luxury car.'

'Poor criminals?' Tom burst into laughter.

'Liz thinks that there are rich criminals, middle class, and poor ones,' Nick grinned.

'You forgot about poverty-stricken criminals,' Richelle did her bit into the classification of criminal classes.

'I wonder which of them can be attributed to poverty-stricken,' Sunny pondered, joining in the game.

'I think I know,' Tom exclaimed. 'The poverty-stricken criminals are the ones who go around with alms boxes, asking money for construction of churches or refuges for homeless kids or other aims, and in the end they disappear together with the collected money.'

We all laughed.

'I don't understand another thing,' I said when everyone calmed down. 'The new brand black BMW is too noticeable. Not everyone can afford this car. And if it's bandits, why do they attract attention to themselves so silly? Besides, plainer and less noticeable car would cost much cheaper.'

'Good point, Elmo,' Nick grinned. 'Why don't you join the Department of Economics at a University instead of writing for the Pen? Then when I take over dad's company, I'll take you on as a chief financial officer.'

'Drop dead,' I snapped, finding such an offer humiliating for me.

'As you like,' Nick shrugged. 'But I want you to know that the chief financial officer in dad's company lives better than ten journalists in your Pen put together.'

'This is it! It's nonsense!' Liz exclaimed with pathos. 'It's ridiculous that a chief financial officer earns more money than a journalist. Your chief financial officer works only for your family, whereas a good journalist works for the whole town. And some journalists work for the good of whole mankind as well.'

Nick and Richelle glanced at each other. Richelle rolled her eyes.

'Maybe you're right,' Nick grinned. 'But our finances are much closer to me than the good of mankind.'

Liz gave an indignant snort and opened her mouth, obviously intending to give Nick a lecture about his selfish nature, but at that moment we heard Mr Kontellis's exclaim from the front, 'Hey. I think that's just what we need.'

He turned the car to the left and parked near a beautiful, one-story log building. We all stumbled out of the microbus. "Roadside café "Soledad" was lettered on the signboard above the entrance. The discreet small signboard, hanging on the wall beside the door, said that this café belonged to the chain of cafes, which supported monasteries and churches, and that all net profit would be sent to support a monastery or a church.

The front door was decorated with a picture of a vague figure with an aureola above its head. Probably this figure represented a saint, but in my opinion it looked more like a ghost.

'Strange place,' Richelle mumbled, staring at the picture on the door.

'Who cares,' Tom exclaimed hungrily. 'All what _I_ care is normal human meal!'

Christo seemed to agree with him. He jumped out of the car and ran up to the door of the building.

'Liz, I don't think we can come inside with a dog,' Mr Kontellis said politely, but firmly.

'Sure,' Liz nodded. 'Come here, Christo,' she called. 'You'll have lunch in the car.'

Christo gave her a reproachful glance, but Liz grabbed his collar and shoved him into the microbus. 'We'll come back soon', she promised him and closed the door.

Mr Kontellis turned on the car alarm and we all came into the café, where we were welcomed effusively by a waiter, dressed in a long, hooded black robe, tied round the waist with a white rope.

'I'd like to welcome you, dear guests,' he bowed. 'The door's open wide - please step inside.'

'I don't get it,' Mr Kontellis mumbled, looking sideways at the waiter. 'Are we in a café or in a monastery?'

The place was almost empty. Rare visitors were sitting at wooden tables, quietly eating something. The inside of the café was simple and dim. Plain wooden tables and benches stood in two rows along the walls. Five or six waiters, all in long black robes with white ropes round the waist, stood near the wall, patiently waiting for the visitors.

'This way, dear guests,' the waiter led us towards the big table near the window.

Tom was twisting his head around, gazing at the furnishings of this monastic cafe. He nudged me in the ribs, pointing at something and accidently trod on Richelle's foot. She squealed.

'Listen, dear guest Moysten,' Nick hissed at him. 'Watch where you're going.'

'Oh sure, dear guest Kontellis,' Tom bowed mockingly.

'Be my guest and have a rest! Good masters make good servants' the waiter-monk had been endlessly spouting proverbs and sayings. 'If it were not for guests all houses would be graves. A guest never forgets the host who had treated him kindly. Old friends and old wine are best.'

'No, we can't drink wine,' Arnold interrupted this flow of sayings. 'We're going to drive after lunch.'

'And we're starving,' Tom supported him, looking at the menu in the waiter's hands with hungry eyes.

'Eat with pleasure, drink with measure,' the "monk" took no notice of them.

'No alcohol drinks,' Arnold protested again. 'Firstly, as I said we're on cars. And secondly, I've got a gastric ulcer. Alcohol is forbidden for me.

'Give us something to eat, please,' Tom begged.

The "monk" finally left folklore. 'Here you are,' he said in a usual voice, giving a few menus to us. 'Come and take pot luck with us. Half a loaf is better than none,' he couldn't help adding.

'A hungry man is an angry man,' Mr Kontellis barked.

The waiter started. 'Call me when you'll make your choice,' he said, bending his head down shyly and stepping away.

I grabbed one of the menus and started leafing through it.

'Hurry up, Elmo,' Tom pulled at my sleeve. 'I also want to see.'

'Hang on,' I muttered, looking over the list of dishes.

When we all made our choice, Mr Kontellis called out the waiter.

'An apple a day keeps the doctor away,' the waiter-monk announced immediately, coming up to us.

'I haven't noticed apples in the menu,' Tom objected.

'We're ready to order,' Mr Kontellis put in quickly to prevent another argument.

We all dictated what we wanted to order.

'Try our homemade beer "a jolly monk",' the waiter suggested. 'It's fresh and tasty. As William Shakespeare said, for a quart of ale is a dish for a king.'

'I told you,' Arnold put in crossly, 'we can't drink alcohol because we'll drive after lunch. Besides I've got a gastric ulcer.'

'Listen, Demetrios,' Mr Brinkley gave an ingratiating glance to Nick's father. 'Can you drive the rest of the way today?'

'Sure, I can,' Mr Kontellis replied.

'Then I'll drink a glass of this "jolly monk",' Mr Brinkley decided. 'After last night I'm completely exhausted.'

'The king's errand may come in the cadger's gate,' for some reason the waiter-monk remembered a Scottish wisdom. 'Okay. One glass of beer. What else?'

Having taken our orders, he finally went away and soon returned with the tray, full of plates and glasses. He put the plates and glasses on the table and gave us another folk saying, 'He that comes first to the hill may sit where he will.'

'Probably you wanted to say "he _who_ comes",' Mr Brinkley corrected him.

'Don't teach me,' the waiter went bright red with injury. 'I'm Doctor of Philosophy in Linguistics. I've written the Ph.D. thesis about folklore.'

'Whatever,' Mr Kontellis muttered, looking impatiently at his plate with hungry eyes. 'We won't teach you. But I beg you, leave us alone.'

The waiter obediently nodded, but kept standing near our table.

'Out of sight out of mind,' Arnold shouted at him.

The Doctor of Philosophy in Linguistics instantly walked towards his mates in long black robes.

'This guy is unique,' Tom grinned, shoveling the roast into his mouth. 'He reacts only on proverbs and sayings.'

No one answered him, because everyone was too busy eating, what wasn't surprised, though. We hadn't been eating properly since yesterday morning. Portions in this café were large and soon I felt that I was full. Lazily chewing, I stared out the window at the parking lot. It was almost empty. Except Mr Kontellis's microbus and Arnold's ancient Mercedes, there was a green van and a big grey truck on the parking lot. I saw a man come out of the café and climb into the grey truck. He started the engine and slowly drove past my window. The next moment I saw something that made me choke. The black BMW, glinting in the sunshine, was parked behind the place where the truck had stood.

The number plate! A thought flashed through my mind. But my eyesight wasn't very good and I just couldn't see the numbers on the number plate. I looked at the others. They were eating and chatting and giggling, but none of them saw the BMW. So I had to act on my own.

Mumbling something about the restroom, I jumped to my feet and rushed to the door. But Mr Brinkley called me out, 'Elmo, the restrooms are over there,' he pointed at the opposite side of the cafe.

I gloomily turned round and wandered towards the toilets. Okay, I thought on my way there. I'll stand there for a couple of minutes and then slip out to see the number plate.

But when I came up to the toilets I stopped in front of two doors, puzzled. Instead of normal male and female signs, there were two completely alike signs with figures in long robes, hanging on the toilet doors.

'And which one of them is a monk and which is a nun, I wonder,' I mumbled, desperately gaping at the signs.

Having thought for a while, I decided that the figure on the right door looked more male. I twisted the handle and came inside. I closed the door behind me and came up to the window, hoping that I could see the BMW from here. But the parking lot wasn't in sight from this side of the building. I paced back and forth along the cabins, waiting. When I finally decided that I could go, I heard water flush in one of the cabins. Then the door opened and a middle aged, plump woman came out.

Oops, I must have chosen a wrong door, I thought in horror. I felt my face blush. I rushed to the door, and trying to leave this room as soon as possible, I abruptly twisted the door handle and pulled it. But I must have twisted it too hard, because something cracked inside the lock and the handle didn't move any more. I locked myself in a ladies' room with a plump woman, who didn't look pleased at all.

'Hoodlum!' the woman screamed. 'Get out!'

'Calm down,' I tried to explain. 'I won't hurt you! I didn't mean to lock the door!'

'Help!' she squealed at the top of her lungs. 'Help me! There's a mugger in here!'

She pushed me away and started edging towards the door, screaming that I was going to mug and kill her. In a panic I rushed to her and managed to clamp my hand over her mouth.

'Please, don't yell,' I whispered hotly in her ear. 'Let's discuss the situation.' The woman bit my palm and screamed even louder than before. 'Maniac! Help me! Maniac is here!'

Then she obviously remembered that attack is the best form of defense and proceeded to action. At first I received a whack on the head with her shoulder bag. Then the furious woman grabbed my shoulders and started shaking me.

Clinging at different parts of her plump body, I tried to tear myself out of her grip, but it was just impossible. Everything was already flickering before my eyes because of this violent shaking. But the furious woman obviously wasn't satisfied yet. Continuing to shake me with one hand, she grabbed my long, curly hair with the other hand and started to bang my head against the door.

'Help!' I yelled. 'Help me! She'll kill me!'

Through her shouts I could hear anxious voices behind the door. Someone jerked the handle, but it didn't move. Then they knocked at the door.

'Help!' I yelled.

'It's Elmo!' I heard Liz's squeal behind the door. Someone knocked at the door again.

'Killer! Bandit!' the woman went on squealing.

'Many hands make light work,' I heard the familiar voice of the waiter-linguist. The next moment "many hands" broke the door and burst inside. I stumbled out of the toilet first. Two brothers in robes seized the woman in their arms and carried her away.

'Your place is a nest of vice,' she roared.

'When the cat's away the mice will play,' the waiter-linguist held her hands tightly. 'Make love, not war.'

'Let me go,' the woman kicked at him.

'Into every life a little rain must fall,' the waiter kept telling sayings, adroitly dodging her kicks. 'If it were no clouds, we should not enjoy the sun.'

I turned round and gloomily wandered towards our table. The others were going after me.

'How could you come into a ladies' room?' Mr Kontellis asked indignantly as we settled down at the table.

'You'd understand if you saw the signs on the doors,' I mumbled. 'They are completely alike. How was I supposed to guess which of these figures in long robes was male.'

'Why didn't you just leave the place?' Mr Brinkley asked.

'I wanted to,' I replied, feeling my face blushing again. 'But the handle on the door broke and I couldn't open the door.'

They exchanged glances and smiled. Then they returned to their meal again. I looked through the window at the BMW, that was still standing on the parking lot. A man was approaching the car. I had to do something; otherwise we'd lose the chance to see the number plate again. I looked around at the others and noticed that Tom also was gaping at the BMW. Then he turned away from the window and looked at me. I nodded. He nodded too, jumped to his feet, and mumbling something, rushed towards the door.

But at the same time the waiter-linguist went into the aisle, carrying a tray with a plate of soup and two cups. He was going past our table when Tom accidently pushed him with his shoulder, trying to squeeze between him and the table. The tray in the waiter's hand flew up, the plate with soup and glasses overturned. Most part of soup spilled on Arnold like a waterfall, some soup spilled on the floor under Tom's feet. Tom lost his balance, crashed down, and sliding on greasy floor, he glided headfirst over to the door and onto the street.

I glanced out the window. The black car was already far away and in a moment disappeared out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4. In Kileaton**

'Hey! What are you doing, you, idiot?!' Arnold yelled, jumping to his feet and brushing the soup off his clothes.

'Who has never tasted bitter, knows not what is sweet,' the waiter replied cheerfully. 'By the way,' he added, 'you'll have to pay for this soup and glasses. It's your fellow's fault.'

'Pay?' Arnold exclaimed indignantly. 'For what should I pay? You've scalded me! And this sticky, disgusting muck is all over me!' he grumbled, still brushing the thick soup off his clothes, face and hair, looking disgusted.

'Experience is the mother of wisdom,' the waiter grinned. 'No sweet without sweat.'

'I'll show you and sweet and sweat!' Arnold furiously pounced at the waiter.

'Patience is a plaster for all sores,' the waiter adroitly dodged Arnold's fists. 'Honey is sweet, but the bee stings.'

'You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs,' unexpectedly Arnold punched the waiter straight in the eye.

'Arnold! Calm down!' Mr Kontellis rushed to stop him.

'Adversity is a good teacher,' Arnold went on waving his fists.

'Business before pleasure, Arnold,' Mr Brinkley grabbed Arnold's shoulders.

'Have they caught this from this monk-linguist?' Nick murmured, looking at the men with fascination.

Meanwhile, Mr Kontellis and Mr Brinkley did their best to hold Arnold. The waiter-linguist brought a saucepan of cold water and poured it on the guy's hot head. Arnold's anger instantly abated and he started mumbling apologies.

'A friend's frown is better than a foe's smile,' the waiter replied magnanimously. 'If you want I will bring some soup for you as a sign of peace.'

'He has enough of your soup, I'd say,' Mr Brinkley pointed out. 'Bring the bill, please.'

The waiter nodded, and rubbing his eye, went away. At that moment the hero of the day came up to us, rubbing his leg and brushing soup off his jeans.

'Thomas!' Mr Kontellis greeted him vociferously. 'What's the matter with you? Why did you run to the door?'

'I…I needed some fresh air. I felt sick,' Tom babbled. 'Probably the food here isn't fresh.'

'Yeah,' Arnold nodded. 'I also have heartburn because of this steak,' he looked sideways at his plate.

Mr Kontellis sighed and rubbed his stomach. 'Maybe you're right,' he admitted. 'I feel bloated too.'

'If you had drunk a glass of this "jolly monk'' beer, you'd feel better,' Mr Brinkley seemed to feel excellently.

'One of us has to drive the car, if you remember,' Mr Kontellis reminded him quite sharply.

'I've got a gastric ulcer. I can't drink alcohol,' Arnold began whingeing again. 'I feel really awful now! This steak burns me from the inside and this soup burns me on the outside. The food in this café is very unhealthy.'

At this time the waiter brought the bill. Except payment for our meal and drinks, this bill contained a payment for the dishes that were on the tray, Tom had overturned; and payment for the waiter's black eye and personal insult.

Three men started to count money, sighing and shaking their heads.

'We'll wait for you outside,' Nick said and we all hurried towards the door.

'What happened to you both?' Liz demanded, as soon as we left the welcoming cafe.

'What happened to us?' I snapped. 'If you'd been more observant, you'd have noticed the black BMW, standing on the parking lot.'

'What?' everyone, except Tom, gaped at me.

'What you've heard,' I shrugged. 'Tom ran to see the number plate, but it was too late. We missed the car again.'

'Okay,' Tom mumbled. 'I need to change.' He wandered over to the microbus. Liz followed him to let Christo out. Tom opened the door and they both climbed in.

'You stupid dog!' the next moment I heard Liz's indignant exclaim. 'Who allowed you to eat the whole packet, huh? Get out of here!'

Christo jumped out of the microbus, looking embarrassed. He glanced sideways at us and pretended to be absorbed in sniffing the tree. Liz jumped off the microbus step, holding an empty packet of dog food.

'Just look at that,' she complained. 'I left a big dish full of meal for him, but he decided to get more. He found this packet under a seat and ate it up! Ooh! Filthy hound!' she shook her fist at the dog.

The "filthy hound" pretended not to notice.

Both fathers and Arnold came up to us.

'Board the bus, guys,' Mr Kontellis ordered. 'Arnold,' he turned to his workmate. 'How much fuel do you have? Should we stop at a petrol station?'

'Hold on a minute,' the guy replied. 'I'll have a look.' He went towards his Mercedes and jammed the key into the ignition. 'I've got a lot,' we heard his answer.

'Good,' Mr Kontellis nodded with satisfaction. 'Let's go then.'

Five minutes later we turned onto the highway and started for the next town in our route - Kileaton. None of us enjoyed the trip, though. I don't know if the meal in this cafe was stale, or it was too spicy, but I felt as if I had a fire inside my stomach. So did the others, except Mr Brinkley, who cheerfully chattered. Liz and Sunny every now and then took a sip from a bottle of mineral water.

Richelle was lying on two seats, groaning and letting the wind blow into her face through the open window. Tom started to chew an old roll, that looked as if it was bought years ago. Nick dozed. I gloomily stared out the window, rubbing my stomach. I felt as though I was going to throw up.

'I'm glad that Arnold is in the other car,' Mr Kontellis grinned, looking at us in the rearview mirror. 'Otherwise our bus would be an ambulance.'

'I don't understand you,' Mr Brinkley shrugged, leaning back in his seat and staring out the window. 'The day is hot! The sky is blue! The sun is shining! We're traveling! But you all are groaning and complaining.'

No one answered him.

'Soon we'll arrive at Kileaton,' Mr Brinkley went on, 'By the way, when I studied at school I visited this place with my school mates. And I know a very nice place not far from the town. I suggest stopping there. It's a really beautiful place. We'll buy some meat in the town and I'll cook barbecue.'

'Don't talk about barbecue!' Richelle yelled. 'I can't stand it!'

'Why?' Mr Brinkley didn't understand his daughter's state. 'Just imagine, Richelle, the clearing surrounded by bushes and trees and covered by green grass. The fresh air! Birds' singing! And the smell of fire and barbecue! Oh, by the way, we should buy spices and vinegar for barbecue…'

'Mr Brinkley! Stop talking that!' Nick interrupted him, noticing that Richelle went green.

'I can't understand modern young people,' Mr Brinkley turned indignantly to Mr Kontellis. 'They don't want to listen to about old architecture and monasteries; they don't want to hear about barbecue. I wonder what they like! By the way, should I buy the vinegar? Or you took it from Raven Hill?'

'Don't talk about vinegar,' Mr Kontellis winced.

'Stop the car, please!' Richelle screamed.

'What's up?' Mr Kontellis obediently swung off the road and pulled up.

Richelle rushed to the door, opened it with a jerk and disappeared behind the nearest bushes. At the same moment Arnold jumped out of his car and with a twisted face, also raced towards the bushes.

'They have so synchronous organisms,' Tom grinned.

Mr Brinkley climbed out of the bus and trailed after them, looking worried. Soon he came back, supporting his daughter with one hand, and holding Arnold with the other hand.

'Cheer up, Richelle,' Arnold said when they stopped near the microbus.

'Thank you. You, too,' Richelle said in a trembling voice and climbed up the step into the microbus.

'How do you feel?' Nick carefully put his hand on her knee.

'Better now,' Richelle breathed and leaned back in her seat.

Mr Kontellis started the engine and we were on our way again.

'Listen, John,' Mr Kontellis said firmly. 'You can buy meat in Kileaton, of course, if you want to, but we won't make barbecue today.'

'Why?' Mr Brinkley looked disappointed.

'Because we're all on a diet,' Mr Kontellis replied. 'I'll cook a Greek porridge for dinner. I'm sure you'll like it.'

Richelle's father grumbled something in protest, but didn't say anything aloud. The microbus went on its way along the smooth road.

'I wonder where the black BMW is,' I said, turning around and looking out the rear window. The highway was almost empty and the ground was flat, so I could see all cars around us. But there wasn't anything like a black BMW.

'I don't see them,' I turned to the others.

'Really?' Tom seemed disappointed.

'Probably it was another black BMW near the cafe,' Sunny said.

'Sunny Chan!' Tom exploded. 'Do you think there are lots of such newest luxurious BMWs in the country? I've hardly ever seen one in my entire life, let alone several cars for three days. I'm telling you! It was exactly the same car!'

'It can't be a coincidence,' I agreed with Tom. 'Ooh!' I banged my fist on my knee. 'How could we be so stupid to lose them again?'

'I can't understand why they appear in the same places where we are,' Liz said, tugging thoughtfully her hair.

'Maybe they have a spy in our group,' Nick grinned. 'And this spy reports to them about all our intentions.'

'Yeah,' Tom laughed. 'Let's work it out. Which one of you is the spy?'

###

We arrived at Kileaton and parked the cars near the big, beautiful building of Museum of Modern Art. The fathers, Liz, Tom and I immediately wished to visit this place. Nick, Sunny and Richelle weren't so enthusiastic. They came with us, of course, but wandered through halls, looking blank.

I've never been in museums of modern art before, and I really enjoyed it. I didn't know that fine art could be so interesting.

Having feasted our eyes on the works of modern art, we left the museum and came out to our cars.

'Okay,' Mr Brinkley said, 'you, kids, can walk around the town while we'll be looking for a good butcher's shop. Come on, Demetrois. Arnold, are you with us?'

'No, thanks,' Arnold sighed heavily. 'I'd rather walk around the town.'

Mr Brinkley nodded and decisively climbed into the microbus. Mr Kontellis heavily sighed and reluctantly followed him.

'Don't go far,' he said to us and closed the door. We watched the microbus turn round, swung into the street and disappeared out of sight.

'Okay, guys, what are we going to do?' Tom turned to us.

'Well, I'm going to have a rest in my car,' Arnold replied. 'After that lunch my gastric ulcer is rebelling. Besides, it's time to take my pills.'

Saying this, Arnold decisively walked towards his car and climbed inside. We saw how he leaned back in the driver's seat and closed his eyes.

'Another one slipped away from the cultural program,' Nick lifted one eyebrow ironically.

We walked around the town. It was small, but there were a lot of interesting places. Monuments, statues, fountains, a nice park. Liz admired a church. It was old, large and very beautiful. We were walking along the path around the church, when we saw a long queue. As it turned out, people in this queue wanted to take some water from a sacred spring.

'We must take some sacred water, too,' Liz stopped at the end of the queue.

'Don't be ridiculous, Liz,' Nick snorted. 'This water doesn't differ from the water that runs from your tap in Raven Hill.'

'Yes, it does differ!' Liz exclaimed.

Whatever we said, Liz refused to go. So we left her standing in the queue and sat down on a bench.

'I've got a feeling that the black BMW isn't far,' Tom said, looking around.

'Stop talking about it here, Moysten,' Nick hissed. 'We're in a sacred place after all! It's not the right place to speak about criminals.' Then he looked around, 'Where do you think they could be,' he whispered.

'You amaze me with your logicality and integrity,' Tom grinned.

'If they really watch us, we at least can understand whom they want - us or our parents,' Richelle put in lazily, examining her fingernails.

'How?' Sunny turned to her.

'Well, if they're interesting in our fathers, they must be following them right now,' Richelle yawned. 'Or if they want us or Arnold, they must be somewhere here.'

'If they want Arnold I don't envy them,' Sunny giggled. 'He can bore anyone to death.'

'Who would want to follow Arnold,' Nick waved his hand disdainfully.

'Who would want to follow us?' Tom objected instantly.

'Stop arguing,' I cut in. 'Let's go and see if they are around.'

We arranged to meet on the parking lot near Arnold's car and went in different directions. Nick and Richelle went off to the right. Sunny jerked Liz out of the queue and dragged her to the left. Tom and I went ahead. We walked through the church gates and sauntered along the path towards the main street, looking around carefully. There were a lot of cars on the street and in the parking areas near shops, but we didn't notice the black BMW.

'Probably it was coincidences,' I sighed finally. 'Sunny's right. We're dreaming. It was different cars, or they just travel, like we. Well, no law against that, is there?'

'Don't be in a hurry,' Tom grinned. 'The others might have found it. Or they went after the microbus.'

We reached the museum parking lot, where we had left Arnold. He was sleeping in his car. The others had already gathered and were standing near a souvenir stand, where Liz was buying something.

'So?' Nick demanded as we came up to them.

'Nothing,' I spread my hands.

'The same result,' the others nodded.

Liz turned away from the booth, beaming.

'I decided to buy a souvenir in every town we'd visit,' she said to Tom and me.

'Good idea,' I smiled.

'So we can conclude that the black BMW is following the microbus now,' Nick said thoughtfully. 'Or it was just coincidences and no one follows us at all.'

'Very clever conclusion,' Tom sneered.

'Listen, young people, are you going to buy anything else?' the woman behind the counter in the souvenir stand asked us.

'No,' Tom replied heartily, 'we're just standing.'

'Go away and stand somewhere else,' the woman demanded. 'You're scaring my potential buyers.'

We walked towards Arnold's yellow car. At that moment the microbus turned into the parking lot and Mr Kontellis and Mr Brinkley came out.

'We've bought a perfect meat for barbecue,' Mr Brinkley informed us happily. We just mumbled something in reply. None of us felt like eating barbecue after lunch in that café. Even Tom.

'Okay, board the bus, kids,' Mr Kontellis commanded. 'Arnold,' he tapped at the window of the yellow Mercedes. 'Wake up, we're leaving.'

Arnold jerked up and started his car. We all got into the microbus and settled down in our seats. Mr Kontellis started the engine and we went off. We swung onto the street and merged into the flow of cars. Suddenly Tom gave me a dig in the ribs.

'Look over there,' he pointed at the opposite window.

I turned there and saw the black BMW, standing on the lane behind the museum. I rushed to the window to see the number plate, but Mr Kontellis had already passed the lane and the black BMW disappeared out of sight. Again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5. Nice camp**

'I suggest sleeping in tents in the bush tonight,' Mr Brinkley said, turning to us. 'I know a good place that is not far from here.'

'Yes!' Sunny and Liz exclaimed.

'No!' Nick and Richelle groaned at the same time.

But the majority was for tents, so soon Mr Kontellis turned off the highway into the country road. This road led us onto an open area, surrounded by thick bushes. The clearing looked as if tourists often stopped there, but at the same time it was quite clean and nice. There were several tall trees, which created cool shadows, the place was covered with green grass and, there was even a special fire pit, surrounded by stones.

'Oh, it didn't change at all,' Mr Brinkley said, climbing out of the microbus and looking around. 'I was here about thirty years ago with my schoolmates. Oh, it so wonderful to feel your own childhood. As if I turned back time. You, young people don't understand it yet,' he looked at us. 'In your age you don't value your youth. Quite the opposite, you want to grow up.'

'We don't want anything,' Nick grumbled, pulling out his bag from the microbus. 'We just live.'

'Okay, take your stuff,' Mr Kontellis said. 'Let's set up tents first, then we'll start to prepare dinner.'

We grabbed our bags and started wandering over the clearing, looking for a good place for the tents. We had three tents. One was for the girls, another was for Tom, Nick and me, and the last one was for the fathers and Arnold. All tents were new and modern. Mr Kontellis and Mr Brinkley quickly put up their tent as close as possible to the fire. And it didn't take a long time for Tom, Nick and me to find a good place and set up our tent.

The girls weren't so successful. Richelle demanded that they have to find a flat place, with grass and with no little stones, and not near ants' nests. She was wandering over the area, looking at the ground and sometimes feeling it with her fingers. Finally she found the place that more or less satisfied her. Liz and Sunny quickly unfolded the tent and set it up. Then we all went towards the fathers, who were trying to make a fire in the fire-pit, quietly arguing.

'We won't eat barbecue today, John,' Mr Kontellis was saying when we came up to them.

'You won't if you don't want to,' Mr Brinkley objected capriciously. 'But I will. I've been dreaming about such barbecue in the wilderness since I don't know when. I'll make a small portion for myself.'

'Okay, do as you want,' Mr Kontellis gave in, fixing the camp stove steadily on the ground.

'Guys,' Mr Brinkley turned to us, 'can you bring brushwood? I need some for the fire.'

Tom, Liz, Sunny and I nodded and went towards the bushes. Nick and Richelle stayed where they were.

'Are you going with us?' Liz asked them.

'No,' Nick replied, 'we'd rather stay here.'

'Let them stay, Liz' Sunny snorted. 'Richelle might break her fingernail and would whinge all the way about it.'

We called Christo and went over to the bushes. There were a lot of dry sticks. When we came back, carrying an armful of brushwood each, Mr Kontellis was trying to light his camp stove. Arnold had pulled out metal pegs and a khaki sack from the trunk.

'What's that?' Mr Kontellis looked sideways at him.

'It's a tent,' Arnold explained. 'I decided that one tent would be too small for three men and took my own tent. I found it in the attic. It's my father's. He slept in it when he was in expeditions.'

'Okay,' Mr Kontellis nodded. 'Do you need help?'

'Do you think I'm an idiot?' Arnold resented. 'I can handle with a tent, don't worry. I'm a scientist after all. And I even went on an expedition once.'

The "young inventor" grabbed his stuff and strode to the edge of the clearing.

Mr Kontellis finally lit his camp stove. Sunny brought the biggest saucepan from the microbus. Tom and I dragged the large bottle of water. Arnold, meanwhile, finished setting up his tent. Now he was standing, staring at it. I noticed interesting patterns on the tent fabric.

But when we came closer, we saw that it wasn't patterns. It was holes. The tent was dotted with holes like a sieve.

'Wow!' Tom admired. 'It looks as if it came under fire.'

'Mice have gnawed these holes, I guess,' I said, looking closely at the ragged holes. 'Maybe they were building a nest.'

'Clever mice,' Nick grinned. 'They have an eye for construction materials. The fabric of this tent is waterproof. Now, Arnold, the mice on your attic can sleep quietly without fear of rain.'

'It's funny for you,' Arnold was almost crying. 'But how am I supposed to sleep in this? I might as well just use a tent made of fishing net. Result would be the same.'

'It's good for you if you're allergic,' Sunny pointed out seriously. 'A lot of fresh air comes through these holes.'

'What about a cold?' Arnold threw up his arms. 'Look, the sky is covered with clouds. It might be raining tonight. And if it's raining in the night, I'm likely to catch cold or even pneumonia.'

'How long do I have to wait for you?' Mr Kontellis came up to us. Then he glanced at the tent. 'Arnold! What is this?'

'Um…this is my tent,' Arnold spread his arms. 'I didn't know that it's in so awful state.'

'Didn't you check it before the trip?' Mr Kontellis glared at him.

'No, I didn't,' Arnold shuddered under his boss's glare. 'Mum packed up all my stuff.'

'I see,' Mr Kontellis snorted. 'Well… You can't sleep here, Arnold.'

'I know,' Arnold agreed sadly.

'You'll sleep in our tent, then,' Mr Kontellis decided. 'It's a three-person tent, I think we'll all easily fit into it.'

'Christo will sleep with us in our tent,' Liz added. 'So he won't disturb you, Arnold.'

'No way,' Richelle positively opposed this decision. 'I won't sleep in one tent with a dog.'

'Neither will I,' Nick put in quickly.

'Okay, Christo will sleep outside,' Mr Kontellis said firmly. 'Or in the microbus, if it's raining in the night, period. No more arguments.'

'But… wait,' Arnold groaned. 'Since my childhood I've been sleeping in a separate room. I can't sleep in one tent with other people.'

'For heaven's sake!' Nick's father wailed. 'You're all driving me insane!'

'Never mind, I'll sleep here,' Arnold cast a stoical glance at the thing, that was a tent in the past. 'Besides,' he looked up at the sky, 'maybe it won't rain tonight.'

'Listen, Arnold,' Mr Kontellis growled, trying hard not to burst out, 'don't wake up a beast in me!'

'I don't,' Arnold babbled, staring at his boss in awe.

'Oh, wow,' Mr Brinkley came up to us and stared at Arnold's tent with interest. 'Arnold, have you done these holes on purpose for the circulation of air?'

'Madhouse,' Mr Kontellis mumbled under his breath.

'I'll try to sew your tent, Arnold,' said Liz, who seemed to be really sorry for this guy. 'I've got threads and a needle.'

'I'm not good at sewing,' Mr Brinkley went on, staring at the tent with fascination, 'but it seems to me that to sew this tent is as the same as to try to make a saucepan out of a colander.'

'Bravo,' Mr Kontellis grumbled and stomped past us to cook his porridge.

'Why are you so irritated,' Mr Brinkley shrugged and trailed after him. 'I'll make barbecue soon.'

'I don't want barbecue,' Arnold groaned. 'Tell me what should I do now?'

'You have three options, Arnold,' Nick's father shouted, pouring water into the saucepan. 'First - you can sleep in your holed tent. Second option - you can sleep with us in our tent. And third option - you can go back to the town and buy a new tent or something to cover your old tent.'

'I choose option three,' Arnold sighed.

'Can you do it on your own?' Mr Kontellis looked doubtfully at the guy, who was climbing into his car.

'Sure, I can,' Arnold replied with dignity. Then he started the engine and went off.

'I hope we'll see him again,' Tom grinned when the old yellow Mercedes disappeared out of sight.

Liz seemed to worry about the same thing.

We all started to help to cook dinner. Liz and Sunny were unpacking dishes. Tom and I were boiling water for tea and hot chocolate. Nick was setting the table. Richelle sat near the girls' tent, filing her fingernails. As she put it, she didn't want other people to see her fingernails in so awful state. Although, to my opinion her fingernails looked as perfect as usual.

Mr Kontellis was cooking his Greek porridge. Mr Brinkley, with independent expression on his face, was making barbecue.

'The Greek porridge is almost ready,' Mr Kontellis announced soon.

Mr Brinkley also was successful in cooking barbecue. A delicious smell was coming from the fire.

'It's weird,' Liz whispered to me, 'an hour ago I couldn't even think about barbecue, but now I'd like to eat some.'

'Shut up,' I muttered. The smell of barbecue tickled my nose as well as Liz's.

'Richelle, can you ask your father to give us just one little piece of barbecue,' Tom gave Richelle an ingratiating glance.

At that moment Mr Kontellis announced that the Greek porridge was ready. 'Let's start,' he switched off the camp stove and put the big saucepan down on the ground. 'Oh, we can't. Arnold hasn't come back yet,' he muttered and put the saucepan back on the stove.

'He must be here by now,' Liz glanced at her watch anxiously.

Mr Kontellis seemed to think the same. He glanced nervously at his watch and sighed. Then he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and punched in some numbers.

'Arnold, where are you?' he asked severely. The phone quacked something in reply. Mr Kontellis listened for a while, then sighed. 'Okay, stay where you are, I'll be there soon.'

He shoved the phone into his pocket and stomped over to the microbus. 'Arnold got lost,' he said to us as he climbed into the driver's seat. 'I have to find him. Don't have dinner without us, please.'

With these words he slammed the door and began to back out of the clearing. We all wandered in different directions. Sunny decided to have a little walk before dinner. Nick and Richelle went off with her. Tom pulled out his sketchbook from his bag and started drawing something. Liz and I poured milk into a saucepan and put it on the stove to make hot chocolate.

Half an hour later the microbus and the yellow Mercedes drove into the clearing. Mr Kontellis and Arnold clambered out. Arnold opened the back door of his car and proudly pulled out a new tent carry bag.

Sunny, Nick and Richelle also had come back by this time, though for some reason Sunny and Nick with Richelle came from different sides.

'Okay, now we can start dinner. I'm so hungry,' Mr Kontellis said, lifting the lid from the saucepan.

'No, wait,' Arnold objected. 'First I must be sure that my new tent is all right.'

'Do what you want,' Mr Kontellis grumbled, trying hard not to lose his temper.

'I don't think Arnold's career at dad's company is going to be long,' Nick grinned.

'I've never seen Mr Kontellis in such a state,' Liz whispered, looking a little bit frightened.

'Oh, he'll calm down, don't worry,' Nick waved his hand airily, drawing closer to Richelle.

We all, except Arnold, sat down on folding chairs or just onto the ground around the fire. Liz and Sunny started pouring porridge into plates and handed them over to us. Tom and I poured hot chocolate into plastic cups. Mr Kontellis and Mr Brinkley preferred to drink beer. Soon Arnold joined us. He received his share of the porridge and a bottle of beer and sat down on a folding chair between Liz and me.

'Ugh, I've done it,' he said to us, cramming a full spoon of porridge into his mouth.

'Thank heavens,' Mr Kontellis murmured.

At that moment pegs bounced out of the ground and Arnold's new tent crushed to the ground. Arnold's face fell in disappointment. Sunny choked and gave a muffled snort. So did Tom. The rest of us politely covered our mouths with hands, hiding smiles.

'Oh, I'll set it up later,' Arnold waved his hand and continued staffing himself with the porridge.

For a while we had been eating in silence.

'Oh, by the way,' finally Arnold pronounced, 'I saw a black BMW on my way back here.'

'Really?' the six of us stared at him.

'Yeah,' Arnold nodded. 'It was a new, cool car. I just couldn't help noticing it.'

We exchanged glances. The story with the BMW was becoming more and more interesting. Or should I say more and more suspicious?

'Have you noticed its number plate?' Nick asked eagerly.

'Why do you ask?' his father glanced at him.

'I'm just curious,' Nick shrugged, doing his best to look casual.

'No, I haven't,' Arnold shook his head. 'I was too busy looking for the way back.'

During the next ten minutes we didn't talk. Everyone was too busy eating. The porridge was splendid. I don't know if Mr Kontellis really knew a secret of cooking porridge or we were just as hungry as wolves, but the large saucepan of porridge was emptied soon. Having finished with the porridge we all stared jealously at Mr Brinkley's meat, still grilling on the barbecue grid.

Mr Brinkley took the grid and carefully put the meat into a deep dish.

'Who wants a piece?' he asked, putting the dish down on the ground near the empty saucepan.

He didn't have to ask twice. We all immediately took a piece of hot, grilled meat each and started chewing it. The barbecue was really delicious.

'I know the human nature,' Mr Brinkley grinned, looking at us. 'That's why I've decided to make a large portion of barbecue for everyone. I knew that you would want to try it.'

'That was a good idea,' Mr Kontellis nodded happily. 'Really good.'

###

After dinner Sunny and Liz started washing up. Richelle was sitting beside them, reading a magazine. Tom, Nick and I helped Arnold to set up his new tent. Mr Brinkley and Mr Kontellis were sitting near the fire, talking and marking something in our route.

Finally all things were done and the six of us settled down on a grass near the girls' tent. Christo was lying next to Liz with his head in her laps.

'So, I was right,' Tom said proudly. 'This BMW was not far from us in Kileaton.'

'I wish I knew which of us they are watching,' Nick said thoughtfully.

'I don't like it,' Liz frowned, stroking Christo's head. 'They are close all the time. And we don't know what they want?'

'Maybe they aren't far from here right now,' I looked at the bush. It was still, thick and black. And sort of sinister.

Richelle gave a frightened groan. 'Don't talk about it,' she whispered, looking around vigorously.

'Don't be afraid,' Liz comforted her. 'I don't think they will attack us. There are too many people for them in our camp.'

'They can attack us while we sleep,' Richelle objected. 'Like maniacs always do in horror movies.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Richelle,' Sunny snorted. 'You're not in a horror movie.'

'People in horror movies always think the same,' Richelle pouted. 'We should watch the camp. Just in case.'

'We have Christo for that,' Liz reminded her.

'Oh, yeah,' Richelle drawled disdainfully. Obviously she didn't think that Christo was capable of saving her from criminals.

'Kids, are you going to sleep?' Mr Brinkley called us. 'It's getting late.'

'Maybe Richelle's right and someone should stay awake to watch the camp?' Tom mumbled as we all stood up.

In the end we decided to watch in pairs. Nick and Richelle took the first watch. Tom and I crept into our sleeping-bags, and immediately fell asleep. At two o'clock Nick woke us up. Rubbing our sleepy eyes, Tom and I crept out of the warm sleeping-bags into the night, leaving Nick to sleep in the spacious tent alone.

We sat down near the fire, grabbed a stick each and started frying loaf, talking in low voices. The night was peaceful and warm. We didn't hear any suspicious sound. Only whisper of leaves and night-birds' voices. At five o'clock we woke up Liz and Sunny and crept into our sleeping-bags to get some sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6. Wonderful town Chalbourne**

The next morning we were woken up at seven o'clock. We reluctantly crept out of our tents and sleepily wandered over the clearing. The second sleepless night told on us.

Mr Kontellis, Mr Brinkley and Arnold looked quite rested and satisfied. Later, during breakfast, when the six of us were lazily chewing our hamburgers and sipping coffee, Mr Brinkley pointed out that he liked this trip. As he put it, civilization was a good thing, but people shouldn't forget about natural things.

'Oh yeah, sure,' Richelle murmured gloomily. By that time she had pestered us by her complaints that her body was aching all over because of "agonizing sleep on the iron-hard ground".

At this point breakfast was finished. We collected our things, climbed into the microbus and went off. Today we were to visit Chalbourne, the town of painters. Mr Kontellis had taken into account Tom's desire to visit this place and included this town into our route. Tom was looking forward to seeing this place. Mr Brinkley was driving this time. Mr Kontellis sat in the front passenger seat.

We kept watching the road, but the black BMW didn't appear in our sight.

'I don't think that we should watch the camp today,' Nick said, stifling a yawn.

'Neither do I,' Liz nodded. 'We were dreaming, as Sunny said. Or these guys on the black BMW changed their plans.'

We were silent for a while. Everyone was staring out the window, sunk in their own thoughts. Then without turning off the highway, we suddenly found ourselves in a wooden town.

'Oh wow!' Richelle exclaimed.

'This highway is the main street of Chalbourne,' Mr Brinkley explained.

We left our cars on the parking lot near a supermarket and went for a walk around the town. As Tom had said, a lot of painters seemed to live in that town. Some houses were odd-shaped; other houses had roofs, decorated with landscapes or stars; some houses had lawns, decorated by little wooden sculptures from fairy tales.

At Tom's desire we visited the local pictures gallery. All pictures there were painted only by the local painters. Some pictures were really wonderful. Even Nick and Richelle admitted it.

Then at Liz's desire, we visited the museum of embroidery and home art, where we got familiarized with traditions of decorating homes of different countries.

Then at Sunny's desire we went to the park. While walking along beautiful paths we often came across big and small statues, which obviously were made by the local sculptors.

'Oh, I love this town!' Tom breathed as we walked along the track, lined with flowers.

We came into a square with a big, beautiful fountain in the centre. There was a van, standing in a corner of the square. A lot of people crowded around it.

'Doughnuts! They sell doughnuts!' Tom yelled suddenly.

Before we could move, he made a beeline for the crowd and screwed into it. Immediately we heard indignant shouts and swears, coming from the crowd.

'Our Tom is toast,' Nick drawled with a mournful expression on his face.

'Hold on, Tom!' noble Arnold couldn't leave his mate in trouble. 'I'm coming!'

And he also vanished in the crowd.

'Arnold! Stop!' Mr Kontellis tried to reason with him.

Liz and Sunny glanced at one another, sighed and also rushed into the crowd.

'And they too,' Nick commented instantly.

In a few minutes Tom materialized out of the crowd, holding two huge paper bags above his head.

'We have doughnuts for lunch, guys! It's my treat! Come on!' he announced solemnly, heading for two wooden benches.

'Wow! Good job, Tom!' Mr Brinkley looked at him respectfully.

'Yeah! I can!' Tom flung himself on the bench, smiling all over his face.

'It's amazing!' Nick threw up his hands theatrically. 'It's just unbelievable that Tom didn't drop a doughnut, didn't break anything, and all people in the crowd are alive!'

'I've brought drinks!' smiling Arnold turned up in front of us with plastic cups and three big juice boxes.

'Another wizard!' Nick commented. 'You both are suspiciously adroit today.'

At that moment the crowd, like a boisterous volcano, disgorged quite tousled Liz and Sunny out of its depth. Their hands were empty.

'Ah, girls,' Nick grinned. 'Without trophies at all.'

'We were providing control,' Liz said. 'Without our help Tom and Arnold wouldn't take anything.'

'You were providing control?' Nick doubtfully raised one eyebrow at her.

'I even put a too cheeky young man in his place,' Liz said proudly.

'And then he tore off your button,' Nick sneered, looking at Liz's T-shirt collar, where one button was missing.

'No, the button tore off on its own,' Sunny grinned.

'Sunny dealt with that guy after me,' Liz pointed out.

'Stop talking and eat,' Tom mumbled with his mouth full. I glanced at him and noticed that he'd already eaten up several doughnuts.

'Tom! Leave doughnuts for us, will you?' Liz gave him a meaningful glance.

'Don't wait miracles from the nature, Liz,' Nick grabbed a few doughnuts from the packet. 'As our familiar waiter-linguist would say, you snooze, you lose,' he added.

The rest of us also hastened to take doughnuts from the packets. We'd been chewing and drinking for about ten minutes. Finally Tom swallowed the last doughnut and threw the empty packets into a rubbish bin.

'Let's repeat?' he suggested.

'No,' Liz objected. 'Soon we'll have lunch.'

But everyone was full with doughnuts and no one wanted to have lunch. So we just took a large portion of ice cream each and settled down near a big pond in the centre of the park. Then Tom, Liz and Sunny were feeding swans. Mr Kontellis, Mr Brinkley and Arnold were talking. Nick and Richelle were sitting on the grass and giggling at something in Nick's phone. I was reading a book, enjoying the warm wind, birds' singing and soft fragrance of flowers.

###

Finally we boarded the microbus and were on our way again. In two hours we arrived at a little coastal town, but didn't find anything interesting there. It was a wretched and dull little town, without even a good beach.

'Look here,' Arnold jabbed his finger at the map when we came up to our cars to go further. 'The guidebook says that there is a sacred Blue Stone not far from here. I suggest going there to see.'

'What a Blue Stone?' Richelle opened her blue eyes wide.

'A mystical stone,' Arnold replied with his nose in the guidebook. 'It's on the coast outside the town. The legend says that the locals had been worshiping this stone since ancient times. But one rich European decided to use it as construction material for his mansion. He ordered his workers to transport this stone to the constructing site, but anyone who took part in this project, including the European, met their death soon under strange circumstances. As for the stone, it turned up on its place, where the locals had been worshipping it for centuries. After that no one tried to do anything with the stone. Let's go there and see it!' Arnold looked up at us.

We got into the cars and went off. According to the guidebook, in half an hour we swung into the country road, which was more like a narrow dirt track, full of the bumps. Soon the road led us to the ocean and we jolted over the bumps and pits along the coast.

'Halt! It's here!' Mr Kontellis commanded.

Mr Brinkley stopped the microbus and we all got off. We found ourselves standing on the coast. On the one side of the road there was a broad strip of sand littered with weed, shells, a few plastic bags and a lot of rocks, big and small, jagged and smooth. Waves lazily slapped at the edge of the sand. A huge, rocky shelf jutted out into the water.

On the other side of the road, on a small hill there was a huge bluish boulder. Probably this boulder was the ancient heathen shrine. And it really was bluish.

We gawked for a while at this bluish stone, and walked off in different directions to explore the countryside. Liz and Sunny found a good place, hidden behind bushes and trees not far from the Blue Stone. So to Nick and Richelle's dissatisfaction we decided to spend the night there, instead of sleeping in a motel.

Mr Kontellis and Arnold drove the cars onto this clearing and we started to unpack our things and set up the tents.

'Oh! My spinning rod!' Mr Brinkley exclaimed happily, pulling a new spinning rod from the microbus. 'Who feels like fishing tomorrow?'

'Not tomorrow – today!' Arnold unexpectedly took an interest in the spinning rod. 'I'll go fishing today. I always do it perfectly.'

'Arnold! Maybe you'd better stay here, with us?' Mr Kontellis looked doubtfully at him.

But this time Arnold insisted. And he even ensured us that not later than in three hours we would be eating delicious fish soup.

He ordered us to make fire, boil water in the saucepan and prepare spices for the soup, then he grabbed the bucket and the spinning rod, and headed for the ocean.

'I hope he won't be eaten by an old toothy shark,' Mr Kontellis muttered anxiously, looking at Arnold's disappearing back.

But to our astonishment, Arnold came back safe and sound, and even brought some good fish, which he turned into really delicious fish soup.

'Great, Arnold!' Richelle's father couldn't hide his admiration, eating the soup.

The rest of us, except Richelle, who didn't like fish, also ate the fish soup with gusto.

After that we spent a good evening swimming in the ocean and lying on the warm sand. When the twilight descended, we talked for a while, sitting around the fire, and then crawled into our tents. We decided not to watch the camp this time. The black BMW hadn't appeared on our way anymore, and we all came to conclusion, that it was a series of strange coincidences.

Later on I wondered why we didn't listen to our instincts again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7. We don't know what to think**

I woke up because someone was shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw Tom's face, bent over me.

'Wake up!' he grinned. 'The morning is lovely. Let's go to bathe in the sea.'

'Good idea!' I grinned back. And I meant it. The night was hot and bathing in the sea before breakfast seemed bliss.

I crawled out of my sleeping bag, feeling around for my jeans and T-shirt. And that was when I noticed that Nick's sleeping-bag was empty.

'Where's he?' I asked, pulling on my jeans.

Tom shrugged. 'Maybe he's already woken up and now is bathing in the sea,' he suggested. 'Come on!'

He crawled out of the tent first. I followed him. The camp was quiet. The men and girls seemed to be sleeping. Nick wasn't anywhere in sight. Christo was lying beside the girls' tent, sleeping. We called him. He listlessly moved, but didn't stand up. We glanced at each other and rushed towards the ocean.

We rounded the bushes and came out onto the road.

'What's that?' Tom stopped dead, pointing at the Blue Stone.

I looked to where he was pointing and gave a muffled scream. There was a human body, sprawling on the stone. It was Nick.

###

'Nick?' I bent over the mystical stone, bewildered.

'What's up with him?' Tom whispered.

'Nick! Wake up!' I shook his shoulder.

Nick waved his hand at me, grumbled something discontentedly and kept sleeping in an amazingly inconvenient position. His face was very pale. If it weren't for his breathing, you would think he was dead.

'Come on, Nick! Get up!' I went on shaking him.

Nick opened one eye and drowsily stared at me. 'What are you doing here?' he babbled.

'Good question,' Tom laughed. 'We want to ask the same thing. What are _you_ doing here?'

'Where?' Nick mumbled.

'Oh, I got it,' Tom laughed. 'The mystical stone called Nick in the night.'

'Stone..?' Nick echoed. His eyes closed and he fell asleep again.

Tom and I glanced at each other. 'Wake up, Nickers!' Tom shook his shoulder. Nick didn't even move in reply.

'Get up!' I roared. 'Otherwise you'll chill all your guts on this heathen shrine!'

Mention about guts affected Nick. He lazily sat up on the stone and tried to stand up, but swayed and sat down on the stone again.

'Hey!' Tom looked at him anxiously. 'Do you feel well?'

'Me?' Nick stared at us in puzzlement.

'You, who else,' I replied. 'It was you who slept on the stone.'

'Slept? On the stone? Me?' Nick faltered. 'I didn't sleep here,' he looked around blankly.

I frowned. I was starting to worry. It was unusual for Nick. It was really unbelievable that cool Nick, who cared about his appearance and clothes, could go to sleep on a stone in the middle of the night. It was just impossible.

'Listen, Nick, did you take a sleeping draught before sleep or something?' I asked carefully.

'Sleeping draught?' Nick pondered.

'Hey, let's throw him into the water,' Tom nudged me in the ribs, smiling with his most sinister smile.

He grabbed Nick's hands. Nick didn't even try to resist, what also was quite amazing. Tom and I dragged him to the edge of the rocky shelf that jutted out into the sea, and pushed him into the water. At first sleepy Nick went under water, but then he started working with his arms and legs, and his head appeared on the surface. At this moment a wave rolled over him. Nick coughed and crawled out of the water, loudly swearing.

'Probably we should have undressed him before throwing into the water,' a belated thought came into my mind as I looked at Nick, who was standing in front of us, streaming with water. His jeans and T-shirt were plastered to his body; his hair was dripping down his face. Tom and I couldn't help giggling.

'Are you mad?' Nick roared at us. 'It's cold!'

He quickly pulled off his clothes and sat down on the sand, hugging his knees tightly.

'Right. The morning is warm,' Tom approved Nick's actions. 'And the morning tan is good for your health.'

'Drop dead!' Nick roared.

He abruptly jumped to his feet, grabbed Tom's arms and shoved him into the water. Tom went deep into water, thrashing around helplessly.

'Are you fool?' he spat angrily as soon as his head broke the surface of the sea.

'No more than you?' Nick muttered and turned to me. I tried to say something in protest, but the next moment I was shoved into the water, too, from where I immediately gave Nick a few harsh epithets.

'So,' Nick said, looking satisfied. 'We all have bathed and can talk now.'

I got out of the water and pulled off my wet clothes. 'Did you get sunstroke yesterday?' I asked, sitting down on the sand next to him. 'Why did you go to sleep on the stone?'

'I didn't get sunstroke and I didn't sleep here,' Nick muttered. A strange expression appeared on his face. 'I was kidnapped last night,' he added in a low voice.

'Oh yeah, sure,' Tom drawled doubtfully. 'By aliens I suppose? And then they left you on this stone…'

'Hang on,' I lifted my hand. Then I looked straight into Nick's eyes. 'What are you talking about? Are you serious?'

'No, I'm kidding!' Nick yelled angrily. 'It's just my hobby - to ride in a car trunk at night!'

'What?' Tom's eyes widened.

'What you've heard,' Nick snapped.

'I can't understand how you could go to sleep on this stone,' I shook my head. 'Why? You could at least bring your sleeping-bag here after all.'

'I'm telling you! I didn't sleep here! Someone kidnapped me, threw me into the car trunk and carried me off!' Nick repeated.

'It's just plain somnambulance,' Tom said sagely. 'Someone walks while asleep. Then he wakes up and can't explain why he isn't in his bed. Such fits usually occur on the full-moon night and…'

'Drop dead!' Nick roared and rushed to Tom, waving his fists.

I immediately hung on his shoulders. Nick was unusually aggressive.

'Chill out,' I clapped him on the shoulder.

'Where's your sense of humor,' Tom added.

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly lifted my hand to stop him.

'Tom, shut up,' I said firmly. 'Nick, can you explain what happened to you.'

Nick frowned. 'I woke up at night because Christo crawled into our tent and lay down next to me,' he said slowly. 'I wanted to turn him out, but suddenly he jumped and crawled out of the tent again. I decided to see what attracted his attention. I crawled out of the tent after him. The night was dark. Christo wasn't anywhere in sight. But soon he leaped from the bush, ran up to me and lay down next to our tent. He was licking and waving his tail in a friendly way. Then he put his head on his paws and fell asleep. Unlike him, I couldn't sleep. I stood up and walked towards the nearest bushes. That was when they grabbed me.'

'In the bushes?' Tom enquired, grinning.

Nick rolled his eyes. 'No. Near the tent,' he muttered. 'I was coming back when they grabbed me and dragged me aside.'

'Who?' I asked.

'How should I know?' Nick shrugged. 'They grabbed me from behind. Then someone clamped a hand over my mouth. Then they hit me on the head and I must have lost consciousness, because when I opened my eyes again I was in a trunk of a moving car.'

'Where did it move?' Tom demanded.

'Are you kidding?' Nick exploded again. 'I'm telling you! I was in the trunk! How could I see where we were going?'

'Okay, okay!' I soothed. 'Listen…' I went on very carefully. 'Are you sure that it wasn't just a dream?'

'Do you think I'm crazy?' Nick roared.

'Shh,' I put my finger to my lips, moving further from him, just in case. 'There's no need to yell. You'll wake up everyone.'

'Hello, boys!' Liz and Sunny, both in swimsuit, turned up on the beach.

'Let's have a swim,' Sunny suggested, throwing the towel onto the sand.

'We've already swum,' I muttered. 'And we've found Nick.'

'He was sleeping on the mystical stone,' Tom added.

'Nick? On the stone?' the girls' eyes widened.

'Exactly,' I nodded. 'We woke him up. He said that he'd been kidnapped last night.'

'Christo woke him up,' Tom interrupted. 'Then someone grabbed him in the bushes.'

'Christo? Bushes?' Liz clutched her head in both hands. 'What are you talking about?'

'Shut up you all!' Sunny ordered. 'Now. Nick, tell us what happened from the beginning to the end.'

'And try to remember every detail,' I added.

Nick repeated the story he had already told. 'I think there were at least two persons. One of them twisted my arms behind my back and clamped his hand over my mouth. The other one hit me on the head. Then I woke up in the trunk. I guess we were riding along a country road. The car belted around the bends, tossing me from side to side. I could feel every bump in the road. I hit my elbow against a metal box, that was beside me. Then the car abruptly turned to the left. The bumps disappeared. Now we were going along a smooth road, probably the highway. I hit the lid, hoping that it would open, but no. The trunk was locked. We hummed along a smooth road for a while and then we abruptly turned and started jolting over the bumps and pits again.'

'Can you describe the way?' I asked.

'I tried to memorize every turn in the road,' Nick replied. 'At first it was a country road. Then the highway. Then an abrupt turn into a country road again. Then another turn, but smoother this time… Then we went up a steep hill. I know it exactly, because I was pressed against the back wall of the trunk. But hardly had I adjusted myself to this position, when I rolled forward. The car was plunging down the hill now. Oh, I wish they would have such a ride one day!' he exclaimed.

'Finally the car stopped,' he went on telling. 'The lock clicked and the lid lifted. "Get out," someone ordered. I climbed out of the trunk and looked around. I was in a village or very small town. I could see a shadowy figure of a church in the distance. They led me towards a big house. The door threw open. Another man in black mask appeared in the doorway. "Don't tremble," he grinned at me. "We need you alive." Probably he was the chief there. Then they led me into the kitchen and the three of them stared at me. Then the chief dragged the kidnappers aside and started whispering something to them. They replied something. But I couldn't understand a word. Then one of the kidnappers left the room,' Nick fell silent for a while. We didn't interrupt. 'Then a strange thing happened,' finally he started speaking again. 'The chief turned to me and sneered. "You're lucky, mate," he said.'

'What did he mean?' Liz asked.

Nick shrugged. 'The second guy returned into the room,' he went on. 'He was doing something behind my back. The first kidnapper grabbed my arms and twisted them, not letting me see what that guy was doing. Then that guy grabbed my arm and I felt a needle go in. I wanted to tear myself out of their grip, but suddenly everything became like a blur in front of my eyes. My legs went rubbery and I fell onto the floor. This is the last thing I remember.'

'And nothing more?' Sunny looked at him.

'Absolutely nothing,' Nick nodded. 'When these two woke me up,' he glanced at Tom and me, 'I couldn't even realize where I was.'

'Nonsense,' Sunny muttered. 'What's the point in kidnapping someone in order to return him back after that?'

'I don't know,' Nick shrugged. 'I also tried to think what they could want from me when I was lying in the trunk.'

'Of course you did. It was the best place to think,' I agreed. 'You couldn't see and hear anything. Do you know Diogenes?'

Nick gave me a harsh glance.

'Diogenes was a Greek philosopher,' I explained. 'He lived in a barrel. Maybe he thought his brightest ideas while sitting in the barrel, when he couldn't hear or see anything.'

'Well I don't know what your Diogenes would think if he was on my place,' Nick replied, 'but I couldn't think of any reason.'

'I don't understand another thing,' Liz put in, looking resented. 'Why Christo didn't defend you?'

'As you see, he didn't,' Nick spread his arms. 'No offence Liz, but your dog is hopeless.'

Liz pressed her lips together in an aggrieved sort of way. 'By the way, where is he?' she looked around.

'When we were leaving the camp he was sleeping,' I said.

'So was he when Sunny and I were leaving,' Liz remembered. She looked at us anxiously and rushed back to the camp. We followed her. On our way there we met the three men. Richelle sauntered after them in her black swimsuit with a violet sarong wrapped around her waist. She held a big towel in her hand, probably planning to sunbathe on the beach.

'Oh!' Mr Brinkley exclaimed. 'You've already bathed, haven't you?' he took a run and dived into the water.

We ran past Mr Kontellis and Arnold to the camp. Christo was sleeping near the girls' tent. Liz tried to wake him up, but the dog's reaction was the same as Nick's one, when we found him.

'Let's dip him into the ocean,' Tom suggested, looking sideways at Nick.

'No, don't dare,' Liz glanced at him nervously. 'I'm afraid that he can drown in this state.'

Christo gave her a sideways glance and fell asleep again.

'Just like Nick did half an hour ago,' Tom laughed.

'If he acts like Nick did, he'll get over it,' I replied. 'I guess it's sort of sleeping draught.'

'Now I understand why he didn't defend Nick,' Liz sighed. 'I just don't understand how they managed to syringe soporific draught into him. Christo is a friendly dog, but he won't let a stranger stick a needle into him.'

'In this case they didn't use syringe at all,' Nick said gloomily. 'I've remembered. He was licking when he leapt out of the bushes. Probably they gave some meal with soporific draught to him.'

'Yeah,' Liz pronounced with vexation. 'Stupid animal! How could you buy into that?'

'What's going on?' Richelle demanded, watching our strange behavior with her head on one side.

Nick briefly retold his adventures. When he finished, Richelle melodramatically hugged him and said that she was glad that he was okay.

'I told you, this black BMW was snooping around us not for nothing,' she said, turning to us. 'But you didn't listen to me as usual. We should have watched the camp last night as well as the first time.'

'Okay, it's clear,' I drawled thoughtfully. 'Now let's think why someone wanted to play this trick with Nick. I mean, if these people were real kidnappers, they wouldn't return him.'

'Nick, why do you think that it was people on the black BMW?' asked Sunny, practical as ever.

Nick glanced crossly at her. 'I told you, they hit me and threw me into the trunk. How was I supposed to find out in which car I was transported? The one thing I know for sure is that when I was climbing out of the trunk in that village, I noticed a BMW sign on the trunk lid.'

'I don't think that it's a coincidence,' I nodded. 'It's obvious that it was the same black BMW. But everything else is bullshit.'

'Maybe it's someone's revenge?' Richelle suggested.

'It could explain everything,' Liz agreed.

'I also thought about it,' Nick said uncertainly. 'Until I remembered faces of those men. That is I didn't see their faces, they wore masks, but it looked as if their chief was astonished when he saw me. And the kidnappers also were staring at me in disbelief. Come to think of it, it was the first time when they looked closely at me in the light.'

Christo yawned loudly, stood up and lazily came up to us.

'Hey,' Liz scratched behind his ear. 'Your gluttony let you down, hah?'

The dog looked down guiltily.

'We must tell our parents about it,' Richelle said firmly. 'These people on the black BMW can be nutters.'

Nick nodded gloomily.

'No, hang on, there must be something else,' I put in. Something was niggling away at the edge of my mind, but I couldn't understand what it was. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the answer was lying right under my nose.

Two fathers and Arnold came into the camp.

'The water is wonderful,' Mr Brinkley exclaimed.

'Let's have a swim before breakfast,' I winked at the others. We all stood up and wandered towards the ocean. Christo trailed after us.

'We'll call you when breakfast is ready,' Mr Brinkley said to us.

We came to the coast. No one felt like swimming. We just wanted to continue the discussion alone.

'So? What were we talking about?' I asked, sitting down on the blue mystical stone.

'Someone has been following us, but we don't know why,' Sunny summarized. 'They appeared at the same places where we were. They managed to put the dog to sleep. And all this hassle only to give Nick a ride in the car trunk and then to return him back.'

'Maybe Richelle's right and they are nutters or maniacs?' Tom suggested.

'If they were maniacs, they wouldn't let me go,' Nick disagreed.

'I don't understand what they meant when they said that you were lucky,' Richelle put in, with her blue eyes opened widely. 'And why did they syringe a soporific draught into you? There was no need in it. They could just hit you on the head again, it would be much easier. Why go through this hassle with soporific draught?'

Nick stared at her gloomily.

'Richelle, you're such a kind person!' Tom exclaimed admiringly.

But at these words the thing that had been disturbing me at the edge of my mind suddenly moved into the centre of it.

'I know!' I exclaimed. 'They wanted Nick to forget about this journey in the trunk, or at least to think that it was a dream.'

'Why?' Liz turned to me.

'Because they made a mistake,' I replied. The others stared at me in puzzlement. I started to explain my point of view. 'Because they were going to catch another one. The night was dark and they must have mistaken Nick for someone else.'

'That can be right,' Sunny nodded slowly. 'At least it explains why they returned Nick back.'

'Do you think that kidnappers would steal someone without making sure that it was their victim?' Tom shook his head doubtfully. 'Kidnapping is a serious crime. I don't think that these men would do it so negligently.'

'Kidnappers were just hired to do the dirty work,' Liz objected. 'And it was dark. And they had no time to look closely at their victim. I agree with Elmo. They made a mistake. It should have been someone else, not Nick. But who?'

'Well, it's not girls,' I said. 'I doubt that someone could mix Nick up with a girl.'

'And it's not you, Elmo,' Liz glanced at me. 'Nick is taller than you and his hair isn't curly.'

'And it's not Dad and Mr Brinkley,' Nick put in. 'They both are taller and wider than me. Even in the darkness.'

'So it left only Arnold and Tom,' Sunny said slowly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8. Hot pursuit**

'Why should anyone want to kidnap me?' Tom looked around. His face paled. Now he was in no mood to laugh.

'You tell us,' Nick drawled, feeling better now that he'd escaped the danger.

'We should do something!' Tom exclaimed. 'We must tell parents about it. And maybe to report to the police.'

'Oh, is that so?' Nick drawled with a jeering smile. 'It was funny for you while I was in danger. But now, you want our parents to know about it.'

Tom was about to say something in reply, but right at this moment Mr Kontellis called us to have breakfast. We ran to the camp, from where a delicious smell of bacon and eggs was coming. Arnold astonished us all again and made bacon and eggs.

'Great, Arnold,' Mr Brinkley was eating his share with pleasure.

So did the rest of us, except Tom. For the first time in his life he couldn't enjoy his meal. Lazily picking up the food on his plate, he sat deep in his private thoughts with a sour expression on his face.

'Why are you so unhappy, Tom?' Mr Kontellis asked him. 'Do you feel well?'

'Yeah,' Tom babbled. 'I just… had a bad night, that's all.'

'You, people, are impossible!' Mr Brinkley exclaimed indignantly. 'You don't value simple pleasures at all. The morning is lovely! Birds are singing! The sun is shining! We're having breakfast on the open air, and all what you care about is sleep!'

###

After breakfast two fathers started washing up. We went towards our tents to pack our things. The three men were going to go fishing after washing up, but all the same we decided to pack our things into bags now.

'I don't understand what these men on the black BMW want from me,' Tom complained, rolling up his sleeping-bag. 'I tried to understand but… I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't disturb anyone.'

'Don't even try to understand,' I replied. 'Sometimes even innocent actions lead to unpredictable consequences.'

'Oh, thanks a lot,' Tom's mood completely ruined.

'Hey,' I put my hand on his shoulder. 'Maybe no one is going to kidnap you at all! It was just a suggestion. It could be Arnold.'

But Tom didn't seem to be soothed. We crept out of the tent. The girls had already packed up their things. Liz and Richelle were sitting on the ground, talking, while Sunny was folding the tent.

'We were thinking,' Liz looked up at us as we came up to them. 'We think that the people on the black BMW were going to steal Tom, not Arnold. After all they could easily catch Arnold when he went for the new tent yesterday. So they came here to kidnap Tom, but Nick frustrated their plans with his unexpected sally to the bushes.'

'What could I frustrate?' Nick glanced at her.

'You frustrate something all the time,' Tom snapped.

In spite of this dramatic situation I couldn't help grinning. 'You, Nick, were supposed to sleep in your sleeping-bag,' I said. 'The criminals obviously had the plan. They put Christo to sleep. Then they spray something into the tents, to be sure that the others won't wake up. Then they find their victim, intoxicate him or her, and drag the victim out of the tent. It's the classical way of kidnapping. But you upset their apple-cart. Hardly had they prepared anything for the kidnapping when you came up to them yourself.'

'If you're right,' Sunny said, putting thoughtfully the pegs into the tent carry bag, 'they will try to rectify this mistake as soon as possible. But this time the kidnapping will be organized in another way.'

'Why?' Richelle enquired.

'Because they are not complete idiots,' Sunny explained. 'They must understand that after Nick's journey in the car trunk, we'll keep our eyes open. So they'll try to think something new. Something unexpected for us.'

'As a wise philosopher said,' I put in importantly, 'you can't step into the same river twice.'

'Much they know, your philosophers,' Tom waved his hand. 'I personally can step into the same river as many times as I want.'

'You're right in saying that, Tom,' Nick drawled. 'You always get into the same troubles.'

'Okay,' I interrupted impatiently. 'Now. Nick, do you remember exactly where they grabbed you?'

Nick stood up and went over to the thick bushes on the edge of the clearing. 'Here,' he said, 'they grabbed me. Then they hit me.'

He stood for a while, thinking, then rounded the bushes and disappeared behind them. 'Look here', he called us. We came up to him. He pointed at the clear tire tracks on the dry sandy ground. There were a few trees and scrubby bushes there, so it was easily to drive even a truck there, let alone the BMW.

Without saying a word, I followed the tire tracks, keeping my eyes on the ground. The others trailed after me. The way wasn't long. It took us a few minutes to reach the road that led to the highway.

'So, Nick,' Sunny said quietly. 'Now everything depends on your memory. You have to remember every bend and bump and everything.'

Nick nodded.

'Then…' I fell silent, thinking. We've found the wheel tracks. Nick more or less will remember the way. And if we find the village with a tall church, it won't be difficult to find the place, where the kidnappers kept him. People on such a luxurious and noticeable car, like the new black BMW, attract a lot of attention to themselves. Someone must notice them.

'I know what to do,' I said aloud. 'Let's get out of here,' I beckoned the others to the camp. 'The criminals might be watching us. They shouldn't know that we've worked out what's going on.'

On the way to the camp, I told them my plan.

'I wonder,' Nick drawled, 'how are you going to reach the village without a car? We'd been riding along the highway for about fifteen minutes at high speed.'

'And think of this,' Sunny added, 'if we were in a car, Nick could remember his feelings. But if we walk, we'll easily get lost.'

I didn't answer. I could see that they were right. My ideal plan wasn't so ideal at all.

'We should tell our parents,' Liz broke the silence. 'This is the only way.'

'And the safest,' Richelle added. She wasn't eager to seek criminals on our own.

'Yeah,' Nick nodded reluctantly. 'Let's go to the ocean. They must be there.'

But when we came up to the ocean, there was only Mr Brinkley, standing on a flat rocky shell with the spinning rod in his hands.

'Where are Dad and Arnold?' Nick asked.

'They went to the town,' Mr Brinkley replied, winding his fishing line on the reel and casting it in again. 'There's no fish at all in this sea,' he added gloomily.

We glanced at each other.

'Dad, we want to tell you something,' Richelle began carefully.

'To be precise, we want to share something with you,' Tom remarked.

'And to ask your advice,' Nick added diplomatically.

'I'm listening to you,' Mr Brinkley put the spinning rod down on the rock and stared at us with interest.

We told him everything what we knew about the suspicious black BMW and its owners. When we came to Nick's frustrated kidnapping, and Tom or Arnold's possible kidnapping, Mr Brinkley nodded thoughtfully.

'You're right,' he said. 'We should do something to stop them. First of all we should find the place where they kept Nick and find out who lives there. But we have no car,' he glanced sideways at Arnold's ancient vehicle, that was standing alone on the clearing.

'If Arnold went with Dad in the microbus, his keys might be in his tent,' Nick said thoughtfully.

'Nick!' Liz was horrified. 'We can't.'

'Yes we can,' Nick objected. 'It's an emergency.'

He and Tom headed for Arnold's tent and soon crept out of it, looking pleased with themselves. Tom held keys in his hand.

'Get into the car,' Mr Brinkley commanded. 'I'll talk with Arnold about it later.'

'Are you really going to do it?' Richelle stared at us. 'But it's so dangerous. Why can't we just report to the police?'

'We should check this place on our own first,' Mr Brinkley objected. It crossed my mind that he didn't want to let the police do everything and to be left behind.

'Richelle, you can stay here, if you don't want to go,' Liz said softly. 'After all, someone should stay here to watch our tents and things.'

'I won't stay here alone!' Richelle screamed. 'You can't leave me alone in the bush, where criminals can turn up any moment.'

'Oh, okay,' Liz sighed. 'I'll stay with you. There's no place for me in the car anyway.'

'Okay, get in,' Mr Brinkley commanded. 'Christo'll go with us,' he shouted, jumping into the driver's seat.

We rushed to the car. Nick ducked into the front seat. Tom, Sunny and I jumped into the back seats. Christo settled down on the floor. We were going off, when I noticed Richelle, coming out of her tent with a beach towel. Obviously she wasn't going to miss a chance to go on the beach.

We reached the place where we'd found wheel tracks and slowly drove forward. Nick closed his eyes. Suddenly the car hit a hole in the road. There was a sickening jolt.

'Yes,' Nick said excitedly. 'I remember this jolt. Maybe I woke up because of it.'

'So we're on the right way,' Sunny said.

'Did they drive fast?' Mr Brinkley enquired importantly.

'Yes. Very fast,' Nick nodded.

'We also can drive fast,' Mr Brinkley grinned, and abruptly pushed down the accelerator. Arnold's old Mercedes speeded up, jolting over the bumps and pits.

Trees and bushes whipped past us. Suddenly the car went over a huge bump so hard that we all jumped in our seats. Tom even hit his head against the ceiling.

'Be careful,' he winced.

'Yes, I remember this jolt,' Nick yelled at the same time. 'After it we turned left and drove along a smooth road.'

He was right. As he said, the road soon turned left and led us to the highway.

'Right,' Nick nodded when the bumps disappeared and we sped along the smooth road. 'But slow down, soon there must be another turn-off into a country road.'

'This one, I suppose,' Mr Brinkley said as we whipped past a sign showing the turn-off to a village. Mr Brinkley jammed the brakes on and veered abruptly to the right.

Christo, who was lying on the floor, was thrown to the opposite door of the car. He lifted his head and stared at us in bewilderment, as though he wanted to say, "hey, are you, people, mad?"

Three times the road forked, and three times Nick confidently told us which way to turn. His memory was really impressive. Then the road led us into a village. A big dome of a church rose above houses.

'This dome I saw,' Nick pointed at it.

Mr Brinkley turned into a parking area of a shop and stopped the engine. 'Do you remember where the house is?' he turned to Nick.

'No, I was in the trunk, if you don't remember,' Nick reminded him. 'But I could see the church dome when they let me out.'

'You can see this church dome from any place in this village, I suppose,' I looked around. At that moment an old man came out of the supermarket.

'I'll ask him,' Tom said and jumped out of the car. 'Excuse me!' I heard him shouting. 'We're looking for our friends. They rented a house in this village, but we have forgotten the address. They have the new, black BMW. Did you notice it somewhere around?'

'Black BMW?' the old man repeated. 'Yeah, it's impossible not to notice this car here. As far as I remember they rented a house over there.' He started to explain where we could find the house. Tom listened attentively.

'Right,' he breathed, jumping into the car. And repeated what the old man had said.

We drove to the place, where according to the man's explanation, the house was, and stopped.

'Let's just look around for a start,' Mr Brinkley said. 'If these criminals are here, we'll think what to do next.'

He didn't have to ask twice. We all got out of the car and slowly walked down the street. When we reached the corner of the street, Nick whispered, 'It was here. This house.' He pointed at a big house at the corner of the street.

We stopped, pretending to look up something on the map, and looking sideways at the house. The events of the next few minutes happened very fast. A ginger, fluffy cat slowly and sedately came onto the street. Christo cheerfully barked and rushed towards it. The cat instantly slipped into a narrow passage between houses. I tried to grab Christo's collar, but failed. Christo rushed past us after the cat and disappeared out of sight.

At the same moment Mr Kontellis and Arnold appeared around the corner.

'Oh, I've forgotten,' Arnold slapped his forehead and ran back.

'Hey! Arnold!' Mr Kontellis shouted after him crossly. 'What are _you_ doing here?' he noticed us.

'Dad, we…' Nick started to explain, but broke off, because we heard loud screams, coming from around the corner.

'It's Arnold,' Tom recognized Arnold's voice.

The black BMW flew noisily round the corner and tore along down the street. Christo ran after it, barking deafeningly.

'Get into the car,' Mr Brinkley commanded and ran up the street towards Arnold's yellow Mercedes.

Sunny and Tom rushed after him. I was about to follow them, but Nick grabbed my hand and dragged me towards Mr Kontellis's microbus, that was parked near the sidewalk.

'Hurry up, dad!' he shouted to his father. 'Follow this black car. Quickly!'

Mr Kontellis obediently climbed into the microbus and started the engine. He turned round and headed to where the black BMW had disappeared. The ancient yellow Mercedes, creaking and clattering with its gears, rattled past us.

'For heaven's sake!' Mr Kontellis exclaimed. 'It's Arnold's car! Have you gone completely insane?'

He slammed down the accelerator and the microbus went forward as quickly as it could, but not quickly enough to overtake the receding Mercedes and BMW. Trying to catch up with them, Mr Kontellis was grumbling under his breath about imperfection of microbuses, which no matter how comfortable they were, they couldn't pick up proper speed when you needed it. Arnold's car and the black BMW, meanwhile, were already passing out of sight. All what we could do was passively watch them in desperation.

'What the hell is going on,' Mr Kontellis snarled to us, keeping his eyes on the road.

But before we could reply, spectacular events occurred ahead farther down the street. The black BMW tried to run through a red light. At the same time a car, which went on a green light, started to cross the road right in front of the black BMW. The driver of the BMW had to brake. Mr Brinkley, who had almost caught up with the black BMW, abruptly swerved to the side to avoid an accident. But his car spun across the road and pushed the BMW, which crashed into a pillar.

'Oh no!' Mr Kontellis cried.

'Hurry up! Hurry up!' Nick urged him on.

When we finally reached the crossroad, a lot of people had already crowded around cars. We jumped out of the microbus and bustled through the crowd towards the cars. Mr Brinkley, Sunny and Tom got out of the car. The driver of the BMW climbed out of the broken car and rushed towards them, but Sunny adroitly swung up her leg in a perfect kick, and hit him in his jaw. The man gasped and fell flat on his back.

'Look out!' I yelled, noticing another man climbing out of the BMW. He held a gun in his hand. But this time kind and friendly Christo astonished us. He sprang at the man, growling ferociously, and knocked him down. The man screamed and fell flat on his face; his gun flew aside, where Mr Brinkley quickly picked it up. Christo leaped on the man's back, holding him down and snarling viciously.

'Get the dog off,' the man yelled in a panic.

Tom, meanwhile, had opened the driver's door and unlocked the trunk. Arnold, tousled and unpleased, was lying there. Liz and Tom helped him to climb onto the ground.

Nick was calling the police from his cell phone.

'Can anyone explain what's going on?' Mr Kontellis roared, watching this scene in puzzlement. 'Arnold,' he turned to his workmate, who was sitting on the ground, with his eyes wide open, 'how did you get into this trunk?'

'They grabbed me and threw me into it,' he babbled, pointing at two men from the black BMW.

'Why?' Mr Kontellis gaped at him.

'I think I know why,' Arnold answered in a low voice. 'Because of my invention.'

At that moment two police cars drove up to us, arrested the criminals and headed to the police station. The rest participants of the accident also were ordered to follow them. Arnold wanted to go to the police station in his Mercedes, but it refused to start. Probably the old car decided that it was time to retire. After all, it's no joke to race after a powerful, new brand BMW.

So we all climbed into Mr Kontellis's microbus and headed for the police station.

###

As it turned out, the owners of the black BMW followed us because they were waiting a good moment to kidnap Arnold. He had made an important invention and the owners of an international corporation were interested in it. They tried to convince Arnold and his boss, Mr Kontellis, to sell this invention, but they both point-blank refused to sell it. But the directors of the corporation weren't going to give up. This invention promised them great advantages. So they hired two men to spy upon the young talented inventor.

They managed even to conceal a detector in his car. That was why they knew where we were going and could easily follow us. They wanted to kidnap Arnold and demand his invention from his parents as a ransom. So if it hadn't been for us, this story could have ended much worse for Arnold.

In that town our great journey was finished. We returned to Raven Hill. Mr Kontellis swore that he wouldn't go anywhere again with such a crazy company. We indignantly objected that it wasn't our fault at all. It was Arnold's fault. Without him we would visit a lot of other towns. Mr Kontellis just shrugged in reply and shook his head doubtfully.


End file.
